Ok, I am calling it a night.

 Ok, I am calling it a night. 

As I shut my eyes, I remember your hunched brows, that sterile walk, your stone eyes and that hemmed face, stitched deep into the collar. I fed you dark sparrows, bite after bite. 

There was sparkly water to pour on your knots but the cinders by then had melted your tongue, turning it ash white. 

An itch I survived but your time was drowning. I waited with a bell, a jar, an empty glass lid; closed tight. Cheap labels of sugar synonyms and fat alike. 

Ok, I am calling it a night.

NOTE: All art is by me. Please don't judge, I am trying to be a better prompter. No. I said, all art by me!