The scent of salt scrapes my lungs,
my eyes burning as it drowns
in this cramped, chilling bedroom.
Yet the dragonfly still fails to visit.
I try to find its broken wing,
to guide its flight for lavender,
but it stays silent on my finger—
this dragonfly I’m afraid to leave.
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Author:
CarnationsCaretaker (
Online) - Published: November 20th, 2025 04:25
- Comment from author about the poem: I knew I would weep for you, but not like this
- Category: Letter
- Views: 1
Online)
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