Creative Writing, Poetry

Die. Dying. Dead

I wrote words for you

Silent on a journey with an unknown destination

Descriptions of my love for you slowly dripped with blood as I felt my heart die

I felt the wind brush pass as my heart fell from my chest

I wasn’t your catchYou watched as I grasped at my chest

Poured pain from my eyes

Your lies tore into me

Ripped pieces of me that I had left

I cherished me and I decided to share with you the love stored in me

Poured a glass that was tall but empty

Dehydrated everything that nourished me

Should I call this love

Or an unselfish act

Or do I fall to my knees from my own ignorance of not stepping back

Drained stocks into folded hands of a energetically draining device

A heart with hollow eyes and no soul in his chest

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2 thoughts on “Die. Dying. Dead”

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