sit and think. very still in that chair.
your feeble hands can almost touch the
memory- if you tried.
that freckled hand. the white bed sheets.
you can almost see her awake in your head.
well after all she is still there.
in memory.
and ash.
in love.
and dreams.
that drop of blood. her white lips.
in the night it's harder. you can see her
in your room- just for a minute.
wrapped in those bed sheets. hospital room.
you can still smell the flowers she held.
those pink lilies. her small hands clutched.
stiff and unloving.
that rigor mortis. those closed eyes.
you can smell her perfume.
it wafts towards you in your dreams.
that vanilla scent. that hint of dirt.
you can almost touch her- if you tried.
sitting still on that chair. thinking hard.
in love she never dies. not even a little bit.
not even at all.
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 5:35 PM UTC
sit and think. very still in that chair.
your feeble hands can almost touch the
memory- if you tried.
that freckled hand. the white bed sheets.
you can almost see her awake in your head.
well after all she is still there.
in memory.
and ash.
in love.
and dreams.
that drop of blood. her white lips.
in the night it's harder. you can see her
in your room- just for a minute.
wrapped in those bed sheets. hospital room.
you can still smell the flowers she held.
those pink lilies. her small hands clutched.
stiff and unloving.
that rigor mortis. those closed eyes.
you can smell her perfume.
it wafts towards you in your dreams.
that vanilla scent. that hint of dirt.
you can almost touch her- if you tried.
sitting still on that chair. thinking hard.
in love she never dies. not even a little bit.
not even at all.
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