sshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . .

stood on the brink
whispered once
and it echoed
a thousandfold
from the depths
of my

mother
fuckin'
lungs

pushing forth
so many lives
lived
lost

to be

yet i know
it was a diaphragmatic release
and all that left my lips
were mere words
falling to their deaths
settling upon salt lambs
grazing upon emerald marsh

and i
on the brink
in repose

screeeeeeeeching:

Why do you have to be so G-D - damned lovely!

i then turned my head
once

and spit
blood


© Susan Marie