Clasp of Closure


Sad eyes,


Knowing it is you-

I feel from a thousand miles away.

Like a prisoner,

Held captive so long

They fear the light.

The poet,

That decided to not

Leave the cave until

The flowers bloom

And she can remember beautiful scents again.

To sleep until  her last sense returns,

Releasing the numbing remedy-

Used to anesthetize the last ounce of pain.

If only I could raise another glass,

And much of it would burn,

Or wash away-

Like that trash bag I lost to the wind

That went directly down the storm drain

With the next cleansing rain.

Or maybe,

Buttoned up in a new purple

Silk lined thrift store find

That makes her smile

Like she simply lost her mind.

And it all belongs

Now only to time.

Words: M(e.)

Purple Little Lady: Yazzzle

Wakeful Therapy: Amber Run – I Found


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