She

She plays every song nice and slow 

she writes every letter with everything she’s ever known

she keeps her head high when she’s below 

She’s learning how to grow 

she sings sad songs into the night 

she breathes in every blow 

everything she feels, is the last flight 

as she creeps softly in the night 

a long walk home doesn’t bother her when she’s alone 

everything feels right, even when it’s wrong 

this might be her last song 

this might be her last breath 

and with her last whisper she might sing you to death 

This poem is about: 
Me

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