impetus impeded

a bloody fist

holds

a bloody rose

violence before evidence

can only be guessed at

impetus impeded in

between the frail friction

one voice wounds enough

for two mired in uncertainty

whispers from shadows on

the wall infest the silence

eyes punch deeper into the

soft membrane of intentions

where do we go from here,

who makes the first move

the garden entrance is 

prepped and ready

but so is the exit

(Image from mirrorsinner.tumblr.com)