Barely There Poems
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- One Week Sunday: I hate you. Monday:
Educator sitting here with a broken heart over the world and how love so quickly fades because of selfishness. more »
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Comments about Barely There
I hate you.
Where are you at?
I sit here waiting for any crumbs of love to fall from your table.
The air is cool against my feverish skin.
You aren’t coming back are you?
Suddenly, I feel very cold.
This solitude is so complete.
I have depleted all my food stocks.
The molded cheese you left looks good.
Maybe I’ll die from a rare fungus.
Maybe I’ll just die.
See, Love, I’ll take