Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
5|8|18
As I stood at the the funeral I was not supposed to be
People drowned me, suffocating me more than she
She, who lay in the coffin, lying cold and still
She, who had already drowned, because she did not know how to swim
Covered in the back, too afraid of my surroundings
I braved a step ahead, ignoring all the frowings
Murmurs and whispers filled my ears
All compliments and regrets form people over here
Needlessly pushing aside people whom I never knew
I braved steps ahead towards her; someone whom I did knew
'She was such a beautiful soul'
'Oh what a lovely girl was she'
'How brave and strong she was'
'Oh how utterly sorry are we'
How funny people save compliments for you after you're dead
Handing you only insults, spewing hate when you're alive
Taking advantage of my invisibility, I reached and looked down at she
She, who wore my dress
And looked as dead a person can be
I looked down at myself, not finding any similarity
As the eulogies started, I stared in disbelief
At the people who once called me a bitch, now call me a fairy
And as I stodd facing the people
Who sat facing the sleeping me
I wondered if we would ever be here in the first place
If they had only told me
What they're telling each other today
About me
♤
YOU ARE READING
1.1 || Floraison
Поэзия*completed* ○•FLORAISON ○•(French : Bloom) •Words spun into poems Letters dipped in gold Sentences laced with elegance Alphabets with a story of their own ○• I present you FLORAISON, a book whose blank pages bloomed when ink touched the rough pape...
