"why" she thought
and the asphyxiation begins
as her usual ways to survive her days,
tonight, is a miss
needles of grass, shades of grey
they carredss her face
she rolls over, nearly blinded, but not;
possibly by what little is left of God's grace
"are you there?" she thought
and the answer was distant
unwilling to believe, but possibly
n o n e x i s t e n t
she arises with eyes set deep
towards trees
sheets of clouds, shades of blue
they follow through
they let her go
tonight
YOU ARE READING
Nocturna
Poetrythis is a series of poetry, and each and every one of them were written as i sat outside, in the middle of the night.
