Molt
I fondle the sweaty hair of my dying me
Who is panting feverishly
Gripping my hand tightly
Teary cheeked and afraid
Eyes locked straight into mine.
I gaze at myself with tenderness,
Soothe my wet face,
Allowing my tears to mingle with my fingers.
I shush myself reassurance
As I bend to kiss my forehead,
And I'm gripped tightly by my dying me,
Who stammers and cries loudly.
I whisper how much I love me
How proud I am
How grateful for protecting Us
For keeping Us alive.
I tell my dying me to please trust this newer Us
And reassure myself that I will be well..
With a loud gasp my old gaze softens,
Bottom lip still shaking,
as acceptance manifests...
I cradle my head close to my heart,
I caress my face,
As I witness my last exhale escape my now still lips.
With the light of my eyes finally at rest,
I softly close the lids of what once were windows to my soul,
I press my head close to my chest,
And I allow myself to weep…
Mí primer stick and poke en @la.lagrimita bai mí tu mí #mencanta mucho con demasiau polke está súpel ósom
Gracias por la clase @tatupari
#WeRidezTheWavez
#Therefore
“…I destroyed Kingdoms for her hand.”
- Braccus The Great, the Terror of Nations…
“Trail of Ashes”
See it in:
Amazon Prime
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