there was a lake. no matter the shivers
and the current whirling and swirling,
we would stay afloat
and keep our heads above water.
but now, i sit in the back in black,
listening to the bells toll.
as Death lowers his head and weeps,
i'm drowning.
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YOU ARE READING
Forever June
Poetrythe ghost of you keeps me awake [editor's choice 2021 | poetry] [cover by @qixing]
