Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
For years, you never left home without a watch clasped tight around your wrist and, I know, no one noticed the day you left it behind. Now your wrist rests barren on white linen beside mine while the cracked face collects dust on your nightstand, shed because you already knew how much time you had left. Your burden now is mine and I stitch my veins together with a watch of my own as I wait for yours to split before my eyes, for the day you use your blood as paint to taint my skies with crimson. The hands' hollow ticking fills the silence of tomorrow, counting each pulse until you say goodbye for good this time.
0
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
Suicide
For years, you never left home without a watch clasped tight around your wrist and, I know, no one noticed the day you left it behind. Now your wrist rests barren on white linen beside mine while the cracked face collects dust on your nightstand, shed because you already knew how much time you had left. Your burden now is mine and I stitch my veins together with a watch of my own as I wait for yours to split before my eyes, for the day you use your blood as paint to taint my skies with crimson. The hands' hollow ticking fills the silence of tomorrow, counting each pulse until you say goodbye for good this time.
shattered_echoes
Written by
20/Agender/Looking for Home
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem