Blood Sisters
By: Pamela Collazos
Crimson bleeds through the shaded windows.
It spews out of the door with ten locks.
It comes from the top right pocket of Marsala
And makes us blood sisters.
Her heart to mine,
The ties have been made,
And no surgeon can tell us twins apart
So to kill one would kill us both.
No gifted hands could separate our organs,
Eagle’s eyes grow weary in trying,
And the atoms lost track of who or what
Made us different entities
When I unraveled her secrets
And freely gave mine.
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Poems Collection
PoésieThis is where I'll start putting all my poems, except really angsty ones, which will probably go in the other poem collection, Songs of the Broken. I'm just starting this collection, so don't fault me that there's only one poem here as of yet. There...
