Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Mourning of a Dead Woman

I shroud my face in dark fabrics and wipe my tears away with my hand.
I am so cold, I'm numb to my own flesh.
Visitors have come and gone.
No one stays.
I mourn a dead woman
The woman I used to be.

Word Porn

"Do you want to know something?" I did. I really did. Every time she talked I clung to every syllable, and breathed in every wo...