There's a screeching in the night.
Do you hear her fighting
for her life?
I hear the crackling of the
fires you lit outside
my bedroom window
invading my home like a
group of black widows
drowning me in choked up
sighs as all these tears soak
into my pillows.
YOU ARE READING
The Empress Rises
PoetryYou broke me before you even knew what it meant to break, stood back & watched me go up in flames. Don't mourn for long; you'll need your legs when I rise from the devastation you laid.
