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blood loss and a beaten horse

by Vikki Owens

the first drop
was not just another
drop in the bucket,
it was a heart-seizing,
frantic clawing of the chest
that made me open my eyes
doe-wide, whites showing
amplified till everything
was tunnel-dark and wispy..

i know how it feels to exsanguinate--
smelling pennies
through the pointless repetitions
of lifeless motion.
shambling.

this drop is much slower,
its a tourniquet twisting,
minute by minute..
i've become listless and paler by the second.
a steady draining,
till i've given every breath,
and shattered
this body:
the dead horse
has long been buried,
skittering bones
giving up the last of that
great
hope.

03/31/2012

Posted on 04/01/2012
Copyright © 2022 Vikki Owens

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