Fire falls and
rain burns.
The sky will turn
so we can see the back.
The sight will turn
our skin inside-out.
It will destroy us
where no one can see
because they are blind.
But as our skin turns
they are suddenly afraid
because they can see
where the water has burned us
and the fire has fallen on our skin.
They will see the child,
younger than any embryo,
curled up inside us
already dead before it was born.
They can see where the trigger was pulled
and where it could not be stopped
and where it chose not to go.
They can see us,
the real us,
the us we've kept hidden
so that they would never be afraid.
But then,
the sky turned,
as it never would again.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Death
Poetry***TRIGGER WARNING*** Feel close to death? Maybe you're not quite as close as you think. These are poems I wrote for me and people I love; some were gifts and others are just my thoughts. These are my own words and images. Although this is for mysel...
