Forlorn

Get down upon your knees,
face-down in the dirt,
that is where you'll find me.
Asleep for a thousand dreams
tread softly--

for the sands of time are shifting.
Watch your feet--

Stumbling down the rabbit hole,
falling past the pictures
Of those she's already seen.
Torn to shreds by the
claws of anger,
haphazardly taped together,
but the shaking hand of one
still lost amongst herself.

She awaits for him at the bottom,
clothes an adornment she no longer knows,
scar upon scar,
fresh lines painting the floor.
She waits with a tragic hope
That you'll land here with her.