His finger outlines clouds
sprawled out across the draining sky.
Each seems to embody the shape of
every part of
You.
I run my fingers across his hand,
as if mimicking a gun,
looking up,
hushed and stunned
And I shoot each one of you out of the sky.
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Author:
Marion Johnson (
Offline) - Published: September 15th, 2021 10:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
- Users favorite of this poem: rebmasters
Offline)
Comments1
as a concept its alarming,
as a read, frankly - its horrifying,
as an artistic expression of the need we all feel to exhume
unwanted influences form our lives, well
let's just hope 'Just' writing it out: was cathartic, enough...
(thanks for choosing to share, better out and shed, than kept-in and repressed) lol
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