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I think I killed myself
the day I started expecting
good things
for myself.
As if to punish myself I wish for good things.
I
h
a
v
e
f
e
e
l
i
n
g
s
that
form
thou
ghts,
that
form
words,
that          form
sente            ­     nces,
that                       form
rope,                         which
ties                               itself
into a                            noose.
Your                         ­     words
are also                    a rope,
that saves me from
drowning.
Sorry if you can't read it.
Kinda.
Kiss me.  
                                 Kiss me, soft, as I am… passing.  
          kiss me while my lips are burning, while I yet believe in romance
                                  with soft blush face,
                                                                ­ hammer heart,
                                                                ­                        sloppy eyelashes.



                     Lift me.  
   Lift me like a child on stilts, elevated above the feeble dreams of adults
                                            with tendons taught,
                                                                ­  fingers splayed,
                                                                ­              playing my hair like seaweed


bless me.
                              bless me with your consciousness,
          with your most pensive furrowed brows
                                                         with your aspirations
bless me with your future.

Feed me.  
                                    Feed me at my bedside—but not just tepid broth.
                       Feed me the window view
                                                     when my eyes forget to flash,

Feed me the sky

Free me.  
                          from the IV,
                                       the monitors,
                                                          the smell of chlorine

          So that it may be you and the moon
that sing my last lullaby.
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