911- April 2001

Is she friends
under the haze of happy pills
Or do the little caplets
Love me in her stead?
This, her darkest hour
hangs heavy on my lungs
My breath married to her pulse
sinking together

"You aren't going to die."
"We're all dying.
Some faster than others."

But not tonight.
Not tonight.
Home | Prose | Poetry | Journal | Books | Funnies | Updates | Goddess | Sign
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1