Load the chambers of my heart
with four shotgun shells
carved with your words,
your emotions, your soul.
Pull the hammer back to start,
watch the tears begin to swell.
Space and time are blurred
as I become nothing but holes.
The sun blinks over me
as I rid myself of breath.
Eyes locked to clouds
as if they'd pull me up.
Everything washes in like the sea
but, then, it arrests.
Too many eyes in the crowd
staring around their cups.
Dare I rise again
with slivers holding on?
Put myself back together
defying fate's smirk?
Pushing forward, hobbling on a cane,
as the pain prolongs
in uneven measures,
I am a recovery at work.
YOU ARE READING
Sitting Here Thinking (2020-2022)
ŞiirPoetry of varying subjects and construction, the second of three. Written while sitting anywhere, lost in thought about everything and anything. Accolades: #1 Thought Provoking 2/26/2020 #1 Self-Reflection 3/22/2020 #1 Creative Writing 7/24/2020 #3...
