Make me scream
Esophagus is squelching desperately for a wind of oxygen to go down into it but since my tonsils were so strategically ripped out the germs get into my lungs and I suffer from a horrid infection
In a bed restraints equipped onto me
Like I’m a barbaric creature ready to cease all of the existence that lives in this entirety that we call a universe
Something that gives so much life but I feel as if this
Infection is giving me death so generously
I screech struggling for air like no other – under the sea
Don't let me forget to breathe
Forgetting to breathe will be the death of me
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Thank you so much for reading
About the Creator
Aubrie Belle
A writer who excels in the overwhelming. My overwhelming is, LIFE. Poetry is an attribute to my life, so have it take affect in yours too.
- Tip me! 😀
- business email is [email protected]
- I really appreciate when you read!
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress6 days ago in Poets
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