TourniquetA Poem by A. J. KingsleyNoun: A device for stopping the flow of blood through a vein or artery
The rising and falling of my chest is the only sign of life left in me. Instead of a steady pulse I feel the dull ache spreading from my torso down to my legs which collapse from exhaustion.
Time passes by in a heart beat, and yet it feels as though my heart stopped beating long ago. Cut off with my love was the flow of my blood, tied back with the same rope that strangles me. Fingertips frantically press to my neck, my wrists, feeling for a rhythm of hope. I find nothing in my searching but the scars on my arms and the burns below my chin. Falling like sleet, my tears pool around me, my lifeboat long gone with my prayers. Perhaps if I cry enough I can finally sleep in the water of my own endless sorrows. Over the crashing thunder I hear my own wails, through the flashes of lighting shines the blade that cuts through me. Yet when the storm settles, I remain. Once all that remained of me was the air filling my lungs, the rise and fall that proved me living. Now, I gasp in relief, as the tourniquet on my heart is finally loosened.
© 2017 A. J. Kingsley |
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Added on July 26, 2017 Last Updated on July 29, 2017 AuthorA. J. KingsleyMinneapolis, MNAboutI am Senior in college who writes about her sad moments and past depression because I believe you can only truly comprehend joy for life when you remember what you have been through. more..Writing
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