Not Here

I am not here.
my eyes reflect the sky
and bleed tears of constellations
as I sweep through this planet
with a grin of uncertainty
that these wings may
only last one more day.
as restraint cracks the surface
of the core,
lava melts my
translucent mind.

by Joyelle Osburn

Other poems of OSBURN (12)

Comments (1)

This is exactly the kind of poetry the world never sees enough of. Transcendent.