You never left a note of thanks,
invader,
the happiness thief,
thus grant me eye-blink.
The little glue in the ears,
the little uncertainty.
The slow cadence,
most likely measures made
by beating hearts.
Humans are homes
for addiction and timers;
the cemetery crows await.
Over at the Grand
Solitary Ward,
thank you for meeting me,
the honor is mine.
And you wait for me, O Death,
in your lofty claws, I cling,
wrap me tightly in your arms.
Do not let me go.
As I, being mere stains on your cloak,
my teeth, being dirt in your boots,
in your scythe, I see eyes.
I loved the waiting light,
all in its grand majesty saying,
we are stars, and I am ready
to be part of the burning, once more.
— A. P.
YOU ARE READING
Accidents: A Collection of Poetry
PoetryIt's like learning a new tongue; like befriending an unfamiliar book, and finding love expressed in a million different languages that I cannot understand nor explain. - you have kept me awake for far too long Antoinette Prescott, 2016 "Accidents" i...
