Donna Dallas

Melancholy with a splash of Tito’s

I wanted to write that I’d felt
several times I would never 
outlast that I’d never get 
here – I’ve laid still

under naysayers and boasters
I played dead to avoid
being beaten to death 
even when I lay buried deep in soft

earth I dug and clawed out just 
in time to breathe I wanted
to say it would be ironic 
to run into the few sharers

and we would laugh recalling
how lovely a share it was
in those hazy days
I wanted to say I thought of you

wondered if I killed you as well 
it’s a slow death but oh how 
desirable to feel it… more 
time one more day

I’d give a lot of money 
a piece of myself
although there is a part of me 
that lingered in that place

if you lose your arm or a finger
you still feel that it is there
it yanks at me always
moves me and I 

sometimes feel 
that old part of me 
saunter into the room
in search of you

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