Kneeling in the rain,
gutters flooded to
the ankles
Run your hands through
Hazel eyes
Red
Red
Black
Weeping
Paint with the chemo
It hasn't been good for anything else
in months.
Will they cremate the toxic art
while your
Bones become
hollow?
You cannot bear to disintegrate
Without a
trace.
They will paint over the underpass,
Erasing your
presence
there.
But the chemical creations
Contused onto the pavement
Will stain the air,
Infecting those who didn't know
All of crimson's
calling cards.
Forgetting you is like
Missing a place I've never known;
Remembering is
waking up
In a house that isn't home.
Sometimes I hate you for leaving.
Tendrils of your voice
Still wrap my brain at night
Gauze that can never
Stifle the blood.
Knowing, gnawing.
The weeds taking root in your
corpse
Must be art,
For within your flesh
leaks the paint you drank-
Wanderer's wine.
Van Gogh's quest was for happiness;
Yours
For
Importance,
Relief. Achieved
In that
When the downpours return
The soil shall flow with pigment
Carrying your essence away
Undeserved- discovered
Lost
YOU ARE READING
We Write for Fear of Silence
Poetry{My soul put into words. Writing is how I put myself back together again. Writing is how I love.} **all poems are mine** HIGHEST RANKING: #30 IN POETRY & #1 IN TEEN POETRY
