press your fingers
to my wrist. there.
that butterfly flicker, that
dandelion touch.
do you know
the price of a pulse?
not the grain and water,
empty air and emptier sunlight. no.
heartbeats are measured
in promises. in words &
silences
& the brush of skin, in
hopeless midnights
and sunset afternoons.
in the weight of blankets
covering my head, when
the promises & silences
have fallen away
and the only things left
are my lungs, rising.
rising.
but even mortal balloons
deflate,
& heaven never was
for the hopeless.
A contest entry
- the truth about heaven by autarky.
1200 points, ended June 13, 22 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
that bit with the lungs was so perfect. the rest was just stellar, except the ending was a little weak to me. at any rate, thanks so much for entering!
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Oh yeah, you're good
Inspirational even.
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"heaven never was for the hopeless"
I loved that line lol Great write.
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