Poetry: Spring i.

Monday, November 6, 2017 - 7:26pm


Illustration by Betsy Stubbs


Now I am become

I can feel it rising


The silence is crushing

The destroyer of worlds

Your eyes press against mine

no emotion my mind screams

your smell clings in my air suffocating

me tenderly       hell’s whisper in my ear      you’re gone

no thought          Wait

The heart is cold


The damage has been done.