Dear Death,
If you ever find me,
please find me asleep.
Cradle me,
caress me,
then hold my hand.
Tell me —
you’re proud of me.
That I was always enough.
Always.
And then don’t just leave my hand…
Hold it.
Hold it longer than
anyone ever did.
But don’t wake me —
for I will,
push you away too.
-
Author:
Meera Mere (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: October 12th, 2025 01:26
- Category: Sad
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Meera Mere, Vogelfrei
Comments1
Love the prospective
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