Messages in Confessions
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Poem by: RaheemaFKM
In my head, thoughts of you don’t stop
Like I need them to, if ever I’m to sleep
On top of this bed, so unappealingly large and
Vacant of the warmth that once paralyzed
Every square inch of my limbs, perpetually active now…
You must know I miss being home, where the
Only thing wrong was the smell of your breath
Unleashed through those lips awakening me with a
Mischievous kiss, playful and tender as butterflies
On spring flowers
Shimmering beneath dewdrops clinging
To each luminescently hued petal, begging to be plucked away…
Would you believe
I almost
Let myself resort to tears
Like a child, still
Young and naïve enough to expect
Our wishes to be granted, after suffering
Unfortunately enough for pity to
Be taken on our circumstances?
Even though life has long since dashed
My assumptions of such
Improbable mercies being bestowed upon those of us
Not worthy of
Even the bones cast off fate’s table…
Funny how sentimental we become
Once our pride has been stripped away, and
Regretful reminiscence remains the only suffocating
Embrace felt around our hearts, contracting at
Variable intervals with
Each breath
Reverberating through our lungs…
© Copyright 2019 RaheemaFKM. All rights reserved.
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