The Well Poem by Erin Dawn Deneys

A thousand words.
A thousand tears.
I have spilled out for you.
A sound i now hope snakes through your veins.
I am not a solid substance to you.
But a feathered thought, whipped and freyed in the midst of a storm.
I reached but could not grab the dream.
I waited only to find myself left behind again.
If you heard me, would you see me. If you saw me, would you love me. If you loved me, would you miss me.
A thousand beats.
A thousand breaths.
I have drawn for you.
The bucket growing heavy from the well of life.
The dark circle far below an inviting eye to the cold and damp beneath.
A stagnant unmoving body of water.
To weak to reach up to take the light.
I am the water and you are my well.
In your grasp I'd rather stay, then any light of day.
A thousand buckets spent.
Yet round you I circle.
Inside you I die.