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Click herelife can be death.
what good is breath
released without reason,
except to put one foot
in front of the other
covering ground
to return to a home
devoid of sound
or soul to greet you there,
where only letters, clothing
and scents are left
forming a phantom
of past pleasures,
treasures tarnished
by dreams corroded
through calamity.
no cause for food to mouth,
when memories of past meals
shared together side by side,
turns stomach to tidal pool
of gastric acid churning,
bitter, burning bile.
instead consuming myself
has become my meal of choice
as the voice
which once gave purpose
becomes an age old song
I know I have heard before.
... to my emotional home. Very well done. Thanks! ~Imp
was breath taking in its pondering about the purposes of life, during times when we view it as nothing more than an automatic function. Very thought provoking!
Found this an outstanding
piece of poetry, a piece
filled with metaphors and
accurate discriptions of
pain felt through love.
I felt this poem and it was
a pleasure to read.
Thank you
~ J
that for reasons other than to sustain life do we breathe and that type of breathing - for another - is as vital to staying alive as the unconscious reflex one. You effectively expressed throughout this piece the overwhelming loss of love felt as I, too, held My breath with you. Thank you for this powerfully penned work.
Vixxx