Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
I was broken with stitches, scars and weakness of the
Soul. You nursed my bedridden heart. My hidden wounds, pain ,they barely see the blood.

I was with fever,
Shivering, trembling.
Goosebumps covered
My head to toes.

The virus I contracted
Had no vaccine so there
Was no prevention for, the
Emptiness, the symptoms
When they were in full
Blast.

Then you entered and smiled.
As we spent more time
The conversations became
A kind of cure but in the silence, the placebo wore off.
Written by
kodakkeiru
98
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems