Email Poem

Your IP Address: 13.59.113.183

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem


I swallowed a clock and it never struck twelve.
Now time drips from my ribs in Morse code,
each tick a prayer carved in reverse.
The stars forgot my name,
so I renamed myself after things that break quietly,
a bruise in the shape of a hymn,
a mirror that bleeds only under moonlight.

There’s a violin growing behind my lungs,
strings pulled taut with the nerves I never learned to silence.
Every breath is a sonata of knives,
still, I play it sweetly,
as if pain is just another way to stay melodic.

He touched me like an eclipse touches the sun,
brief, devastating, impossible to look at.
I didn’t burn. I became the shadow.
Something softer than ash,
but just as forgotten.

The ocean inside me has no shore.
It loops in on itself like a lie I told too well,
saltwater laced with syllables I choked on,
his name,
folded into the lining of my stomach
like a secret I mistook for hunger.

I wrote love letters on paper made of smoke,
sealed them with the blood of a voice I no longer use.
They vanished in the wind,
or maybe into him.
He was always good at absorbing storms
and pretending they were rain.

The saints won’t take me.
I burned my wings for warmth too early
and now I sleep inside the furnace of what I couldn’t say.
Even silence has a temperature.
Mine rests somewhere between longing and combustion.

I dream in algebra.
His face is always x,
unknown, unsolvable,
but rooted deep in the math of me.

If you ever find my ghost,
don’t call it a haunting.
Call it a rhythm.
A heartbeat trapped in a hallway.
A pulse too stubborn to quit.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required