[liam60]

I feel I’m dying as my sadness bruises my lungs and my throat swallows hard

I’m aware of my nostrils warm and bitter flies as buzzing around the open door

My hope is gone and with it my last beating heart of hot air misplaced and out of joint

I am alone in my sadness and love

My success in survival is my failure to contemplate another life in this life without you

Turning my insides outside my hot eyes well with dry tears for what we have become in our endearing tangled desires of self inflicted gratitude

Our coterminous is inevitable I lie in the bed I have made no flowers growing over me
A clicking sound and tired cars heading toward the sea.
I am not a monster I’m afraid
My weapons are my destruction of minds eye and perspective too close too far
I build my case ambidextrous in binoculars melodious sweat tasting expertise of old Russian dancers
What time is there left when so much time has been lost without fermenting qualities
Clover in my head shapes my imaginary friend goose pimples on my arms and thighs

Begin again is a painful thought and yet I’m beckoned to another place where I may begin again

[icarus-trust]

Its difficult to know what to say but if you need someone to talk with please contact The Icarus Trust.
You can contact us on help@icarustrust.org or visit the website http://www.icarustrust.org
Good luck.

[Author]

Posts