12:59 pm
(dedicated to my cousin who died when i was young -i was eight, she was eleven...she would be sixteen now...i miss you Darien)
the room felt dead - like a graveyard.
your skin was pale
and your hair looked like chocolate.
i had never seen you with so
little emotion -
you always made us laugh,
and made things a bit commotion.
the ringing went continuous
and your breathing had stopped.
as you laid there; still as a statue.
my heart skipped a beat
while my family stood at your feet.
i held your hand - it was as cold as i c e.
we never knew,
the virus would come
with a price.
YOU ARE READING
intoxicated // poetry || 01
Poetry[ book 01 - completed ] emotions are not meant to be bottled up, and i knew at the second your breath intoxicated my lungs, that emotions were meant to be wild, spread out, and if you can survive the journey, it'll be one hell of a story. ███████...
