dear oliver,
my voice shook as i
opened the book up,
the black cover blurred
in between my eyes.
taking in a breath in, i
began:
“what is an “instant” death anyway?
how long is an instant? is it one second? ten?
the pain of those seconds must have been awful
as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and
there was no air and no blood to her brain
and only raw panic.
what the hell is instant?”
quinn
YOU ARE READING
zero
PoetryQuinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is...
