Dead

On the days

when it hurts so bad

that the bird inside me cannot sing

and instead hops about pointlessly

like a one-legged seagull

balancing endlessly on the edge of nothing

When I spend days on end

creating salty seas

and smaller puddles

with tears I shed for no apparent reason

I think of you

and for a brief moment

cease to imagine how restful it would be

if I were dead.

 

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4 Comments

  1. January 29, 2015 at 1:02 pm

    Beautiful 💯

  2. February 2, 2015 at 2:46 pm

    Very poignant, but I hope you’re feeling better. It’s so sad 😦 Many hugs. Kathleen xoxox


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