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Below is the poem entitled Aftermath which was written by poet Allison Ballard. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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 The aftermath is strewn 
With torn back blankets
Hot and pounding chests
 And a quiet, mental hurricane
while the rain is still tapping 
the shutters

Moments like this are a funeral
For the girl that shared my hair
But has long been buried
Under my gnawed breast
And heavy breath
Resting in distant ground

I’m happy to be terrified
Even as I’m tired and sick
Of dizzying aftermath
That is only more confusing
When your constant lips
eat up my heart
in sync with 
 snapping springs

I’m watching you kill me
Like a slow movie
But in real time
I’m convinced that
I’m already dead

In my head,
 it’s all the same

Strip me to skin
Strip me to sin
I can never lose
But I’ll never win

I’m built for unending

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