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Grasping For One Last Breath
Waking up to soft teardrops prickling down my window.
Blinded by the bright sun, shining through my thin linen curtains.
Once opened, a warm breeze soars through my bedroom,
And I spot something surprisingly small, resting on the pavement.
Excited, I ran down the spiral staircase, to find a satin-covered box stuffed with promises.
Lots of gifts. Lots of gifts.
Choking on presents.
Drowning in lies.
Wilted roses, and rotten chocolate, were stacked in my corridor.
Its odor came sobbing to me, every night I tried to fall asleep.
I run past the frowning concierge covered in fog, past the stumbled taxi driver soaked in rain, and past my lover,
Passed the one person, I spilled out my secrets to, the one person that I trusted.
To which I am now disgusted.
Till I reached the pier, it dangled like a chandelier.
And I
Jumped.
Drenched in water I dragged myself out onto the hard concrete of despair and shattered into a thousand pieces.
He ripped my heart out and threw it across the horizon, off the dazzling coast, vanishing behind the gloomy morning sun, the heart sank and drowned in the deep and bleak streams.
To be never found again, it clenched onto algae, grasping for one last breath
Of hope.
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This article has 4 comments.
I can't connect to this poem and have never experienced anything like this and hope I never do, but when I write, I can dive into different lives and experience things through poetry without actually experiencing them.