Severed from him,
In the grave gaps I’m trapped
The jagged moon rock drags jet black
Like the color of his hair, that my fingers will never wrap
Death…oh woe…the psyche shivers;
So they poured shellac
Bottled away in this thymus madhouse
Anguish is my noun


7 thoughts on “Strip

  1. I know I’ll never fully experience that homeland loss. But I wanted to voice my compassion towards the suffering. And I always felt that if you lose someone you love is losing your home. I’m sure you deeply understand.
    Thanks for your comments 💛


  2. Yeah I don’t rhyme a lot in my poetry. I like rhyming but my style is always drifting. I suppose I’m most confessional in my style. I felt childhood loss too in this piece. I think I’m mixing two raw emotions here. I don’t know if they are conflicting or complimenting each other.
    Like always I’m very pleased you liked it!


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