In the tides of time,
Washed up and baked in the sun,
i lay in the sands of misery,
Wondering what went astray,
As a silhouette of a being knell over me,
He Caresses my face sweetly with his hand,
He whispers to my arid body's frame,
As he unlocked his mouth to near mine,
Fingers Wishing to Feel
I wish I was like you
Sleeping dearly, nearly
Lost to time
Never waking up
I am not like you
The unraveling begun,
An open wound oozing puss,
Lost to heal
Clouds turning Grey
This is a poem written by Cynthia, my friend and lover.
Cynthia, lost her mother Georgeanne and sister Robin last year.
As I sit, I consume all my guilt in this bottle of numbing alcohol. As, others sit drinking, smoking and talking among themselves. Your...