It washed over me,
this wave of utter.
Just washed away my face
and my little boy smile.
I am washed away washed away.
Can you drift in this
gone away breathless life
can you float like I do
washed away?
Taken away in waves of sadness
I am drifting washed away.
I feel the guts of this helium balloon feeling
gone up into the sky
just a tiny pinpoint of color now
then gone out of sight away.
My belly cries waves of washed tears
my eyes are filled with gone
my hands tremble with the grating need
please please take me away.
I am carried on a crying pool
it washes me washes me away.
Take me down to the final gate
breathe your last air into me
the heart of this dead traveler
is broken and washed away.
Please.
Wash me wash me away.
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I know this feeling so well – live with it every day. Your descriptive narration drives your words straight into the reader’s soul.
thanks for the read and your comment! yes it seems poetry exists mostly for that reason. enjoying your posts, by the way!