Breathe

Folder: 
2017

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

 

I forget,

I remember,

I exhale a hurricane and leave steam on your skin.

 

I learn loss when the doors are closed,

I set sail at all the wrong times.

 

I am too human,

I leave a mark wherever I go,

it is not always a good one.

 

We all want to leave postcards, silhouettes, golden

but mine always turn gray and crumble to dust.

I want to leave color,

flood these hours with more than minutes.

 

I want to leave fingerprints

so you know I was here.

But this might be a crime scene,

if it is I will take all the blame

I hope if it is the blood runs beautiful.

 

Will I remember to breathe when you’re here,

when you’re gone?

Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/26/17

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allets's picture

Together

and longing for it - well said, intersting motif with various degrees of hot - liked the steam on the skin. - Lady A -

 


...a