poetry

What’s Left

I’m 5 years old
as I watch
a couple
on death row,
and when I ask the woman
“Why?”,
all she can say is –

“You’ll notice something
funny
if you hang around here
for too long.

And if you’re wise
you’ll leave with more enemies
than friends.”

All I can hear
is a life
full
of old woulds,

Too many masks
sore necks,
(from heads held
high
for too long),
and too few
“I love you”s.

So I tell her myself
and she calls me a fool.

I can see through her –
she’s made of water
and glass.
I just hope
that she doesn’t drown me
when she breaks.

But as she kisses me
goodnight,
I feel her leave
wet spots on my cheeks
that have yet to dry.

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7 thoughts on “What’s Left

  1. Pingback: What’s Left – island towards which we swim

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