Too Hollow

rose-tipped fingers, and ocean-tinted eyes

find a home within my mind — locked away.

the stillness — transcendent — devours me.

she comes to me in waves of pink — in quiet,

quivering moments — stuck, lifeless, between

never-ending sunrises, and sunsets.

the softness of it quells me, touches me,

and suffocates me until my lungs weigh

too heavy to bear — too hollow to breathe.

my chest carries the burden of what was,

as my eyes prick, and burn with what could

have been — with what I could have done.

the darkness takes on her familiar shape,

beckoning me — calling me — begging me

until she carves me into tiny, fractured fragments.

black-tipped fingers, and death-tinted eyes

find a host within my bones — tucked away.

the emptiness — the sadness — eviscerates me.

Xandra Winters ©️2021

If you enjoyed this poem, please consider reading the first part in my Songs From A Ghost poetry series!

Previously published on Medium