Bump-bump.
went the heartbeat,
pat-pat,
said the hand,
shivering,
slid the teardrops,
swoosh-swoosh,
breezed the fan.
Scuddle,
mumphed the two shoes,
buzz-buzz,
drawled the light,
shaking,
were the knees
when they were pulled tight.
Squeeze,
whispered eyelids,
shudder,
screamed the breaths,
drip,
did the fingers,
touching one cheek,
wet.
I'm here,
murmured darkness,
always,
said loneliness,
tissue?
asked the sadness,
it's okay,
lied wariness.
Empty,
roared the room,
No one's here,
creaked the door,
Alone again?
remarked crevices,
You'll be fine soon,
promised the floor.
YOU ARE READING
Feathers: A Book of Poetry
PoésieA pencil is the spotlight of a soul. It tells them its okay to overflow. It tells them ideas are art, and that the best ones are masterpieces. Feathers is a collection of poetry by me to convey the beauty and undeniable strife of the world, and emot...