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Jun 2019
Ophelia drowned herself
two weeks ago. Submerged,
head first, into the lake.

Air bubbles formed
at the corners of
her mouth until
one by one
they burst;

She couldn't shout.

The black ink thickens,
as she sinks.

Deeper,

Curls clinging
to her cheeks.

Her frozen pulse quickens,

and the last

beat

of

her

heart

sends ripples that disturb
the silence.

I can hear you now.
This is a poem I wrote as part of my Creative Writing course at university back in 2009/2010.
Emma Elisabeth Wood
Written by
Emma Elisabeth Wood  F/UK
(F/UK)   
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