The flowers in my lungs are dead.
So I try to seed my earth again
Let sunlight sink in
Feed them with other leaves;
But here the earth is sterile
The sunlight burns my skin
Leaves drying before they touch the bottom of this well.
My lungs have no oxygen
No air to live;
The seeds drown in my tears
Silent screams
Choking to breathe;
But there's no air here—
Timeless, dark rooms
Gather dust and dry in the salty,
Lifeless ground
[It's hollow under my ribs—
Flowers have no power
In a dead man's lips]
YOU ARE READING
H I M
Poetry"Blue eyes for distant Stars Honey eyes for Sunlight, We are the crashing of waves on sand Tree branches reaching for the bright sky We are where you end and I start; We were made to belong." This is a chapter in a book I am putting together. And t...
