Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2014
You died in the middle of the sentence
O, slashing sound, how refreshing!
O, ocean breeze, I can feel the salt
filling the pores of my scratched skin
How adorable is the blue, blue, blue
O, when you fly and fly and the blue turns into emptiness ---
The outer space, my dear! So black;
So black no sky could squeak through
You died before you'd seen the stars!
-----

Smashed soul and come back to Mama
The womb is no longer your place
But you can decorate it all the way you'd like!
What is mine is yours, except
for the pain and wounds --- But you
can collect the scars like butterflies or the postage stamps or -- what is it again?
What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama

The warm soup is now cold
I'll add the ice for you if you want it colder
I'll add my heart to it if you want it coldest
What is freezing but not frozen?
What is it? What is it again?
What is mine is yours, my dear,
come back home to Mama
Written by
Pea
188
   ---, r and Ariel Baptista
Please log in to view and add comments on poems