literature

another version of the truth

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EternalSunday's avatar
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Literature Text

let's skip through the unnecessary dialogue,
the late-night phone calls where she screams until you hang up,
the "i'll see you next monday,

until then i'll just try to breathe."

let's get to the part where she dies.


  there is poetry under her skin, a pulse that defies everything,
  arteries clogged with stutters and pleads.

  she cut her finger on a paper once,

  and words swirled out along with the blood,
  drenched in a bitterness of sorts.

  (she licked it off, but the words remained,
  spreading across her body like chicken pox).

and it still itches, skin peeling off faster
than you break promises,

do you remember the sun when it went down?
she went down along with it

while you enjoyed the view.

       
...

Okay. Writer's block has officially beaten me. But time heals all wounds, right? I'll just have to jump around on crutches for a while.
© 2012 - 2024 EternalSunday
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forestmeetwildfire's avatar
Your fantastic work has been featured here!
I'd really appreciate it if you could give some love to the other featured pieces and :+fav: the journal! :heart: