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Collection 1 of poems. My barely breathing saint lies here waiting for me. So afraid to look in the mirror and see the truth it reveals. I won't let anything happen to us again. Such a pitiful creature. Edited May 2011
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy - Chapters: 4 - Words: 166 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 01-30-10 - Published: 01-07-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2761544
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Patience, My Love
Barely breathing;
she lies under
a black cloth.
A whisper beneath the sheet.
I walk down the path
to find this house, where
she is sprawled on the floor.
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