“Setting Forth To My Departure” by Tami Boehle-Satterfield

holland_island_house_2

Sometimes I feel like I am dying.
Short feeble gasps,
Chest a sinking hole,
The bones and teeth of it sinking in.

I am drowning.
I am drowning in it.
Moving,
Drifting from room to room.

Haunting it.
Thin as a ghost, I am disappearing here.
The things I knew
Going and then gone.

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1 comment
  1. Trish Bentz said:

    Never gone. Just rearranged.πŸ˜ŠπŸ’”πŸ’•πŸ’–

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