I wrote this today for my poetry class, but it's not going to work with the theme I was supposed to follow. Oh well. It still needs a title, maybe you have a suggestion for that? Let me know what you think!
"Untitled"
She wanted to find
herself,
but I couldn't help her look.
I can still feel her lips pressing against mine,
kissing me good-bye.
I got letters,
sometimes
postcards,
of where she was and
where she was going,
searching for her elusive self.
I bit my tongue
as I wrote back to her
lost soul,
shaking my head as her words
came back more lost. I don't know
if she found herself in her travels,
she never said that she had, but
a call at two in the morning told me that
she was found
at the end of a velvet noose
in Paris. Thirty-five
thousand miles from home,
from me.
I’ll never know
her last words, feel
her soft hair in my fingers, hear her
sweet laughter echoing throughout our home,
now mine
alone.
—Z
1 comments:
bump for great justice!
Post a Comment