Breathe Out

Sitting alone in front of a gravestone,
Staring at the blank wall that it is sewn.
Smooth but hidden in the darkness alone,
I see the cuts of blood… my own.

Listening to the whispers and groans,
Wishing that I was home.
Skin tingling with cold,
Hands took my arm in hold.

Noise can’t escape my lips,
As the nails dig in and make rips.
Blood on my fingertips…
I feel it against all the whips.

Written on the gravestone,
It appears.
My name on the stone,
So crystal clear.

Life fails me,
Feel myself falter,
Take a breath,
Breathe out…

Copyright©BeckyEvans2011