When we are gone,
Where do we go?
So many souls, and so many stories
There are so many...
I feel as if my throat is full of flowers
They clog my lungs and my heart
I can't breathe. I can't sing of where you've been
Trying to cross the path where you last wandered
I'm only full of empty echoes
Of the great Americana
A family so dysfunctional
That the cross on the walls isn't enough to take the sin away
Nights spent with tears wasted
YOU ARE READING
The Last Mermaid
PoetryEver had a dream you confused with life? Ever feel yourself slipping away into the waves? Ever feel that you've just gathered wings to fly away from this mess? Well... you have. You may be one of the last mermaids. Part anthology, part diary of grie...
