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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #2238606
A brief message between me and my mother, and anyone who may have lost someone.
I hurt like you hurt
I cry like you sigh
And when it’s time to burn
I’ll crisp all the same

You love, I’ll be the same
You love, I’ll see all the same

Crooks say loneliness make you sick
And I’ll agree
Loneliness will take its pick
Me, you, it’ll get us all sick

Death’ll make stuff come out your mouth
Whether you wanted to speak or not
We’ll all purge
When death tells you to shout

My ma purged and I cried
She hurt and I died
Maybe we shared something
Maybe I said something
Silent, howling, looking for more

That hospital comforted some, and tortured others, all the same
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