PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The weight of his heart

In the palm of my hand

         Is a weight too great for me to bear.



I have sighed into his lung many times,

Can he still breathe in the air for himself?

I don’t know.

He doesn’t answer these days.



I am the culpable girl for these fates,

The culpable fate for these girls,

        I could hang them blissfully

        And laugh at their suffocation

Though it is I myself who draws no breath.



A softening of heartbeats is my docile love,

        The crushing of a windpipe,

        The smothering of mouths.



Exhale your exhaustion in the hopes of inhalation,

The hopes of rejuvenation,

The hopes of youth.

        The pursuit of life is arduous.

Falsity, purity, falsity,

How I long for the quiet breath of artificiality.



In.



Out.



In.



        Gone.