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Poetry: Bitter Poetry
She Sits
by jessie

I search to find,
under the thicket of vine,
the woman beneath my flesh.

The one like a child,
I hold tight in my locket.

She lives in my bones
and breaths in my lungs.

She walks in my shoes
and sleeps beneath my covers.

Sometimes her words roll off my tongue
and I struggle to catch them.

She travels the four chambers of my heart,
each valve a door to the next.

There she waits patiently,
untill she is released in my veins
and soars throughout my body.

 
 
 
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