17 September 2012
I wonder if this loss even cuts you,
The way it cuts me, like a rusted blade
Through already ravaged skin,
Like a rope tearing through
My bruised and fragile throat,
A needle piercing into my heart,
Hot, sharp, stabbing, with every beat,
Lungs drowning in my own self-pity,
Suffocating from lack of you and me.
I wonder if you feel this pain half as much as I do,
Or are you already numb to us
And how much we've both lost?
Loss • Opuss № I