May 21
Baby blue skin.
I see you in my dreams.
I reach for you when you cry.
Baby blue skin.
Your last breath.
Stolen by fate, not by time.
Your hands so small.
Baby blue skin.
So cold, so very cold.
Sharp and rigid, now a faint echo in my chest.
Baby blue, nothing but a memory now.
I see you in my dreams.
I reach for you when you cry.
Baby blue skin.
Your last breath.
Stolen by fate, not by time.
Your hands so small.
Baby blue skin.
So cold, so very cold.
Sharp and rigid, now a faint echo in my chest.
Baby blue, nothing but a memory now.
This poem is written about the day I found my sister. She was a baby when she passed, as a little kid I would always ask why her skin looked so blue the last time I saw her.
