burn,
to prove you remain host
to a spark.
bleed,
to show that you, oh
you can still hurt.
drown,
to scream on bubbled-word:
oxygen clings to you yet.
cry,
to reveal the salty truth of a
time spent aching.
talk,
to yell & whisper & sob &
strip the blade of its hold.
live,
to boast that life cannot be
taken, not from you, not yet.
- a. ; 12.25.21
YOU ARE READING
shoebox | a poetry collection
Poetry" 𝑖'𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒃𝒆𝒅. . . " - a collection of poems written by yours truly - " . . . 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 . "
