Vines

The clock is ticking, ever slowly.

Life’s so short, but death is so long. 

And my lungs breathe in night air,
but you've already been there.

We laughed, sister and sister.

We died, holding each other.

We are so fragile, our bones were never metal.

Reviews

[YoungWolf]

...And I move onto the second poem I've read from you.

Again, there's a deeper meaning that can only be grasped from a second readthrough, but that's what's good about this - you make your readers think about this piece of work. Saying that, I'm actually still trying to grasp the overall picture.