The end: A poem by Lola Morrison

I am breathing, blood is pumping through my veins.

My eyes are seeing, my brain is searching

Through my thoughts.

My self is being, my hand is holding

Blackout

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The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest

---

Noise

---

Yours in mine.

My head is empty,

And your eyes they tempt me.

I am not enough,

But you are plenty.

Yes, I’m breathing

And yes I’m seeing,

But I am feeling

Nothing, again,

Why aren’t you seeing?

I am not alive,

I am merely breathing.

[ Fighting WordsOpens in new window ]