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terminal

lying in anaesthetised
sheets of snow,
she palely, patiently
waits,
a clock where her
heart
should be,
ticking and
chiming the
hours
she has
left.
her hairless
head sits on the
pillow like a tree swallow’s
egg; so fragile:
like the single
tear that escapes,
as her
haunting,
hollow
eyes wonder…

why?

terminal

darkvampire

Joined January 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 2

Artwork Comments

  • timbuckley
  • darkvampire
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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