Whispers


by Sara Kennedy


The way to the soul
is through the fire
of the eyes.

The friend that stopped the
attempt at death
the person who was there
not saying a word
a sound
not even looking
Just there.

I stopped breathing
i stopped caring
i stopped.
I have no heart...this is yours.

A sweet memory, but gone.
Music at my fingertips
slipping silk and a hoarse whisper.
I wake up calling that name.
Your name.



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