I dreamt
of the final stuttering breath
that passed from your lungs
and the drool making its way
between wrinkled folds
from the corner of your mouth
with each all-consuming huff
like staccato
that cause the walls to swell
in the times from each inhale
to exhale
like the popping of balloons
over in seconds with quivering anxiety,
but I could not tear my eyes
from the outline of hunched shoulders;
you clutched your chest,
but I did not rush to your side
as the man I had known
became the nightmares of my mother
until finally flesh collapsed
against the cold stone of the floor;
I felt no sorrow,
no pain,
despite the numerous memories
imprinted with your face,
how pale and still.
I could not catch my breath when I awoke
as if your end had been passed to me
as retribution for my indifference.
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Once, We Lived | Poetry Collection Completed
PoetryA collection of poetry from the high-school years of an semi-angsty teen with too much time on her hands. This is an exploration of the different facets of life and the perceptions of a teen of the 2010s with a knack for words. Warning: contains con...