I gave you my sorrows neatly folded inside a box.
This was the wave of a white flag. A bloodline.
My pencil scribbled on a piece of your whitest paper,
Guts spilled out for all to see.
Your tornado, my rage
And the gray in which our souls lost themselves
Shaken by an earthquake too strong to fake.
The past absorbing into cellulose.
I hand it all out to you,
To the past that stains inside your sleeves.