Little Black Heart

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
woke up this morning with things on my mind. this is my form of therapy.

Submitted: February 05, 2011

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Submitted: February 05, 2011



Look at what you’ve done to me.
Look real hard, but not with your eyes

Because the scars I’ve got
From your little black heart

Are years long and miles deep.
They blanket the length of whole my body

Then, I was so sure I’d never stop
Worshipping the air you breathed

When exhaling smoke was my only
reminder to keep breathing.

Now, I cant even picture your face,
Or hear the ringing of your voice,

Any day we might meet I will
do my best to not recognize you. .

Sometimes I catch myself sitting alone,
Holding my breath, for no other reason

than the overwhelming feeling I’m drowning
in the giant public swimming pool of life

Watching the white puffs of cloud
Gracefully move across the clear blue skyline,

children dive and splash
And laugh and play.

As I sink further and further down
I can still see bluejays flying overhead

the distorted faces of my family and friends
suddenly brings a tight feeling to my chest

and I gasp for sweet air
and remind myself to keep breathing.

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