Wooden Words Lost in The Dying Roots – Unhinged Poem

Wishing in a tree of a broken word, sleep in the whispers of the cold, open the door, look for her, but be bold, be ready, be unable to forgive the cold, see yourself in the tarnished words that break across the sky, whisper the kiss, whisper the lies, prepare the mixture, fade away, for the hands of time, are combing around again…