Because I kept it alive so long…
It’s prodding me now to see if I’m still breathing.
To find if there’s an ounce of anything good that it hasn’t darkened in me yet.
Just to keep it away.
So I can see it,
But can’t feel it.
Then it takes my sight and blurs it,
So I stumble forward blindly, hoping to touch it.
But when I reach it…
My hands are so numb from crawling,
That I can’t even tell I’m holding it with bloody fingers.
I cling to it and level up to my useless eyes,
Only to see that I don’t even know what it looks like anymore.
Face to face it stares.
And still, I can see right through it…
It’s fading now, be cause I’m fading now.
I’ve been forgotten,
And it knows it will die soon.
Still…when I do finally lay motionless,
Together, and unrecognizable…
They will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.
A Collection of Voices from Around the World is more than just a poetry compilation. It is a partnership of poets from around the globe brought together by an internet poetry forum. That forum, poetrypages.com, has been the home of many a fine poet s
Pierre
Love,
Mom