deepundergroundpoetry.com

until then; tomorrow

Fattening my Inbox
Your note
undeleted
My panicked  
arrhythmia
violently pleads
 
Your farewell  
more flagrant  
than reasoning;  
minimal
A rope and a chair
conjures stark disbelief
 
Instant reprieve
your plans timely  
intruded  
Another tomorrow!
You, ruefully,  
 
Still  
Breathe.
Written by ursa
Published
Author's Note
I am far too often on the side of the Inbox. And so I cannot leave this as it is without saying that if you feel this in a certain way, there is always, there is always, there is always someone, who wants to hear you. Who wants you here.
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