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Em MacKenzie
Poems
Sep 6
Cold Hands
I’m alone stuck in my head
we both lost track of what was said.
Here I write but you haven’t read,
please just come to bed.
Lost in translation starts a fight,
another disappointing night.
Not sure of much but sure we’re right,
come to bed and turn off the light.
Mind’s running laps but in a line,
avoiding barbed wire and land mine.
Determined to stay up to greet sunshine,
come to bed and it will be fine.
I’m alone stuck in my head
an impending sense of doom and dread.
I write in blue but you mark in red,
please just come to bed.
Written by
Em MacKenzie
35/F/Ottawa
(35/F/Ottawa)
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