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Empty
October 1, 2013
Empty
The sky is dead.
its skin is pale and swollen.
The air holds its breath for me,
wondering why I’ve come.
“Because I feel empty”
I tell the abandoned homes.
“We’re just the same.”
But they are silent.
They don’t understand that
I am one of them.
“After all” they taunt
“You live and breathe and what not.”
They won’t let me come
any closer to them so
I fall where I stood.
The weeds don’t like me.
They stab at me, bloodied with
Autumn’s rusty hand.
“I thought you would understand”
The wind sighs slowly.
“Go home, Christina.
You won’t be empty forever.”
© Hilary L., Rogers City, MI
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This article has 2 comments.
TargonTheDragon GOLD said...
on Oct. 5 2013 at 6:23 pm
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh DANG THIS WAS GOOD!!!! The line about "Autumn's rusty hand", just perfect. i really, reallly, really, completely, awesomely, love this poem. not that it is likeyly, but NEVER STOP WRITING.
