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Come, Make Me More Alive

  • Writer: Catherine Ann White
    Catherine Ann White
  • Mar 5, 2020
  • 1 min read

I am a bag of bones,

each dangling from the other,

with flesh hanging from them all

and the sweat of exertion dripping

off my skin

down

into a puddle on the ground.

The ground on which stands

this whole heavy mass.

And it all hurts.

The bones.

The head.

The heart.

Discontented and unfulfilled,

I seek intoxication,

something to reignite.

Oh, Come, make me more alive.

Give promises for anticipation

words for thrill

and touch to invigorate...

something to quell the unease

something for reprieve

of the darkness of living

and lift the weight

of my heavy, oh so heavy

bag of bones.

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