8 of Coins; reverse
5 of Wands
7 of Wands
Knight of Swords
What have I done?
Lying to run, trying to escape,
Yet still I smile with bloody teeth
That I tear out promising no pain.
His eyes were beautiful –
I was lost, but found no light.
Now ghosts comfort me at night
As I cry about the semblances I saw
In the stars as they died a brave death
Alone and cold. Beautiful and old.
If only I could do something
Other than swallow my burnt green tea
Brewed in grease – the purest taste of grief.