Blog poetry WRITING

but i died

but i died

but i died
and you with
pen in hand
watched

me debate
a final
breath

confident that
unreturned love
could not be both
possessed and
possessor

but still i died
with pen in hand
feeling

your lips
curse my lungs
in remembrance
of the grief

felt in a foolish gaze
held with solemn repose




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