Archive for November, 2011

A flutter, a nightmare, a flying kiss
A beating, a pulsing, a hit or miss
A hard push, a shove, a soft cry for help
A whisper, like feathers, I lose myself

A hand, a window, a stealthy escape
Running, now panting, hard choices to make
A gunshot, a bullet, lodged in his head
A stumble, unconscious, is he now dead?

Still running, Still panting, what has he done?
Who are they, behind me, what do they want?
His body, now taken, is raw and cold
I huddle, in forests, nowhere to go

They find me, now broken, covered in red
A bloodhole, no feeling, bleeding to death
He stands there, not bloody, looking away
Are we ghosts? Or did he, lead me astray.



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