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Austin Heath
Poems
Mar 2016
"White Knuckle."
I hear her wake up
and begin mooing in pain
until she’s crying.
I’m incapable/
entirely useless to help.
So I’m listening.
I grip my bedsheets
and ponder how blood ecapes
the white of my fist.
Everything I’d ****
is somehow intangible.
Magically and
Invisibly, it
drifts about these halls, crying;
Hate turning to fear.
Grip something solid,
and wish it were the throat of
that **** ghost, haunting...
My dreams are empty,
my greatest fears are realized,
my sleep is disturbed.
I am alone now,
listening to cries of pain.
My knuckles are white.
#fear
#pain
#haiku
#ghosts
Written by
Austin Heath
Cleveland, OH
(Cleveland, OH)
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