Tiny deaths

I touch my pulse 

to remind myself I am sane:

blood is throbbing beneath my skin

in every blue lilac vein.

 

My hands tremble,

the pillow and sheet echo every sound,

every flutter of panic

coursing – swift acting poison –

through my limbs.

 

And I know this is chemical,

I know the darkness is all

perceived – intangible nothingness –

 

but I am tired of tiny deaths

and saving myself from every grave.

 

 

Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

4 thoughts on “Tiny deaths”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s