Colliding, exhausted,
I gasped for air
as I clung to your skin
and twirled your hair.
With coffins for bodies
and guns for hands,
we hid from our shadows
and laid in our sins.
We cut holes in our sheets
and wore them as clothes;
we were lost in the dark
like ghostly old souls.
I reached for your hand,
I fumbled and flailed,
I listened in silence
until my hearing had failed-
But by the light of the moon
and the guidance of the stars.
I will find my way to you,
wherever you are.
YOU ARE READING
Heartstrings and Other Things
PoetrySnapping like the strings of violins, red dripping on my fingertips. The angels cry for the bleeding hearts, the sirens sing their songs of sorrow, both sobbing in their worlds, apart, what is whole today is gone tomorrow.
