Once my body is sprawled across the sands
of an uninhabited island--
a peninsula that has never been owned
but owns me--
and I have been drowned twice.
When the only sensation in my body
is apathy chewing a hole through my cheeks,
I will save my last breath for you to take.
And you could breathe it back to me
if you ever find where I am
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 7:02 AM UTC
Once my body is sprawled across the sands
of an uninhabited island--
a peninsula that has never been owned
but owns me--
and I have been drowned twice.
When the only sensation in my body
is apathy chewing a hole through my cheeks,
I will save my last breath for you to take.
And you could breathe it back to me
if you ever find where I am
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