Anemone

Sun, 05/22/2016 - 13:03 -- Mairis

 

She could hear me dry heaving

Pens and needles

That my aching chest was

Bleeding

 

The blood

Red, black, and blue

Ink

From my heart and

Eyes

Gripping onto the edge

Spilled over

 

My muscles painfully contracting

Tears

Its salt burning her skin like a

kiss

 

She lingered by like an

old friend who knew how

to listen

patiently waiting for me 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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