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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 01, 2018

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Submitted: August 01, 2018



Pin me down on the cold, hard floor,

I don't even know what I want anymore.

Rough rope tightened around my wrists,

blood draining from two clenched fists.

Fervent eyes meet my own empty pair,

A gridlock stare, a passionless glare.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul,

but that's only true if you allow a loss of control.

Sweat sweeping down my skin leaves a trail,

Salty fingers in my mouth in an attempt to prevail,

Making it hard to exhale a single thought or word,

Thus leaving resurfaced passion unheard--

uncontrollable word vomit swallowed back,

creating an air sac in my blood stream and

an inevitable heart attack.

The color drains from your face as you begin

to pace.

Knife to chest cavity you grab my heart, trying

to get it to restart it's beautiful, beating art.

But you fail to breathe life back into my soul,

Suppressed emotions really took their toll.

© Copyright 2019 Noelle. All rights reserved.

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