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RMatheson
Poems
Oct 2015
Free Me, Star
I'll wear it like a broken record,
your weight, an open wound,
still.
How quickly the everything you were,
your void, a dripping faucet,
madness.
You swallowed my love in your throat,
your gut, a churning pit,
death.
What's left of my ability to feel,
your numbing, a left hook,
loneliness.
So please, free me, Star,
from the gravity of your being,
as it has left me crushed
like damp, wrinkled pages
of a book you no longer care to open
Written by
RMatheson
M/Beating tired bones
(M/Beating tired bones)
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