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Click hereStretch Marks
Sitting in a crumbling land,
I reach out for you
Stretch out your trembling hand,
Help to break me through
Grasp my cold fingers tight,
Hold on to me in the dark of night
And when at last you must let go,
Wipe my face of falling snow
And as I fade unto my death,
Breathe in deep my final breath
Lead me to my resting place,
Wash the blood from my grey face
Shed no tears for my lost soul,
Dig deep my grave, my wretched hole
And when I’m buried, when I’m free,
Only then will you love me
Some people save their darkness for the bottom of their personalities, but I find that you wedge yours dead in the middle. Between the whimsy and the shrewd observation. Anyone who stumbles across this page is lucky to glimpse some here. Every line of this poem feels deliberate and measured. Purposeful. "Wipe my face of falling snow" is gorgeous and captures a moment that propels the whole rest of the poem. Thank you for sharing.
This poem sent me through a wave of emotions. thank you for sharing it.
I like the almost dispassionate emotion in this and for some reason I relate to it.
Agree with the earlier commenter though. Not sure the title does it justice. :)
how to take this one. It has a lot of powerful imagery, a good layering of emotion...maybe the title just threw me, I'm not sure it fits. (Maybe it's just me!) :)