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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1351975
This poem is understood by some, and confuses many.
Walking into the studio she stumbles, body thrown forward full throttle. She curls up her body into the fetal position and trembles. Her glossy hair spread across the floor. A single rose in her hand. She squeezes and watches the thorns poke into her skin, she slowly releases and her eyes glaze over as she watches the blood trickle down to the water-like cement floor. Foot steps approach her and she closes her eyes. A heavy hand reaches down and brushes the hair away from her face. A thick blanket of spearmint breath covers her face as the savior cradles her body in their lap. The rose slips from her hand and lands silently on the floor. Savior holds her hand in theirs and kisses the top of it. The girls eyes close. Good-bye.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1351975-Savior