I’m not sure
How healthy
He was
He hardly slept
Rarely ate
And liked it.
Some afternoons
Were naps
Because he stayed
Up all night
Fighting demons
Inside his soul.
I would hold his hand
Let my other fingers
Play in his black
Red rooted hair
Stroke his stubble
Until his breathing
Was quieter
Than a hummingbirds
Wings.
#63 (Hummingbirds)
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- Demonic Grinning Poet
- Posts: 481
- Joined: Thu Mar 27, 2008 2:20 pm
- Tag line: You Haunt My Soul
- Location: Pluto
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