DawnEllice
Am I alive, or am I dead?
Something about the wind has shifted,
like clouds parting
for the sun to come through.
Won’t you warm me up again?
Or was it never true?
Will the wind blow the same,
like the shift hasn’t come through?
Something about us has shifted —
the air feels thick,
like the weight between us.
Am I alive, or am I dead?
When the beat of you
won’t blast me away,
like the echoes of
the drop between
us.
— D.E