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stephanie-hannahPoems
Lines cut clean. the silence overwhelms me. my pain develops; raw and torn. I wander up our shore, Now, one set of footsteps, I walk alone, Against your echo in our waves. The water burns, salt rushes to the wounds, Sand gets in, the irritation sickens. Hear me? I'm screaming from your pain. See me? Curled up on the shore? The silence overwhelms me, Lines cut clean, I cry for help. I am alone. Another me walks on your shore. My heavy beat slows, I succumb, Vision blurs. I am alone. As the waves take me, my footsteps fade. I pray for you to not look away. Eventually, the sand moistens; the waves crash; I was never there.
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Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
Washed;;
Lines cut clean. the silence overwhelms me. my pain develops; raw and torn. I wander up our shore, Now, one set of footsteps, I walk alone, Against your echo in our waves. The water burns, salt rushes to the wounds, Sand gets in, the irritation sickens. Hear me? I'm screaming from your pain. See me? Curled up on the shore? The silence overwhelms me, Lines cut clean, I cry for help. I am alone. Another me walks on your shore. My heavy beat slows, I succumb, Vision blurs. I am alone. As the waves take me, my footsteps fade. I pray for you to not look away. Eventually, the sand moistens; the waves crash; I was never there.
Copyright © Stephanie Hannah 2010. No reproduction, distribution or unauthorized usage permitted without express permission.
Written by
stephanie-hannah
American
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
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