i inhale until the ashes turn white
like the pure once driven snow
now muddled gray
my lungs scorched black
cannot bloom
no flowered prose
can escape my lips
dry and cracked earth
i want to rest
and let these embers die
crackle and go out
but they hold on to my labored breath
trying to ignite again.
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC
i inhale until the ashes turn white
like the pure once driven snow
now muddled gray
my lungs scorched black
cannot bloom
no flowered prose
can escape my lips
dry and cracked earth
i want to rest
and let these embers die
crackle and go out
but they hold on to my labored breath
trying to ignite again.
