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Sam Harty
Poems
Sep 22
To the bone
You left
in the night
silent
deadly
a ghost
a shell
of who
I once was
in a fresh
kind of hell.
I'm stripped.
flayed.
cut down
to the bone.
yes, this is me
since
you've been
gone.
I"m starving
for you
your touch
your breath
on
my skin
a whisper
alone
the cure
to put
me back
together again.
#loss
Written by
Sam Harty
63/F/La
(63/F/La)
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