Lump In My Throat .
What if she dies?
Can I still see the butterflies?
Will this planet keep its typical size?
Or it's going to be a cold corner,
That gives sight to bones and bloody eyes?
What if she goes with anger or sorrow?
Do the tears still fit in my sweaty pillow?
Looking only for her ghost to make me yellow,
So there's no need for saving me from
Swallowing the lava and breathing the shallow.
They will say "she was nice and charming"
They will narrate all of her funny deeds and sayings,
And I'll stay there with no soul left in,
Realizing that 'Ice' is my heart's new name
And the shadows will be living under my skin.
What if she leaves my space?
Without me giving her the last embrace,
And this idea of never being able to see her face.
She always has been afraid of dark
Yet, they'll bury her in that scary place.
My tears interrupt the continuity of this sad anthem,
Pictures of this day earthquaked my entire system,
All I'm doing is creating a self destructive problem
When all I've to do is glorifying the ground she walks above
And feeding the cats or else i'll be the heroine of this poem.
