Twisted.
Bent in pieces that shattered in clouds of dust.
Hailed in bullets of bleeding stars,
and given moments that opened me—
showing my intimacy to the sky.
Bending the cold wind that teaches me to remember.
Bending the dusk that taunts me with forever.
Bending the hurt that presses on the door.
Bending the moon… that builds, lifts, and then drops me bereft to the floor.
Bending you,
the last of my mess.
Bleeding through,
where my heart was once kept.
Susie Clevenger (@wingsobutterfly) says
Wow! Great piece! Love the ending!
Jessica says
Thanks, Susie! Appreciate you reading. xoxo