From the book. "Accidently Dead"... a found poem.
An unwilling glance at the clock told her it was just midnight,
Pressing a cold cloth to her forehead,
A sob welled in her throat,
Sadness filling the empty cavity where her heart once beat.
Cold chills break out along her spine,
and if he didn't at least like her as much as she liked him,
why should she beg so she could spend an eternity with him?
Her stomach fluttered, hollow and filled with fear.
This web is one seriously tangled weave.
Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 2:43 AM UTC
From the book. "Accidently Dead"... a found poem.
An unwilling glance at the clock told her it was just midnight,
Pressing a cold cloth to her forehead,
A sob welled in her throat,
Sadness filling the empty cavity where her heart once beat.
Cold chills break out along her spine,
and if he didn't at least like her as much as she liked him,
why should she beg so she could spend an eternity with him?
Her stomach fluttered, hollow and filled with fear.
This web is one seriously tangled weave.
Request permission to use this poem