Lydia Johnson

Rookie (1/19/1989 / Columbia, South Carolina)

Lydia Johnson Poems

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Best Poem of Lydia Johnson

The Time To Sever Has Come, Big Brother.


I am sorry.
I cannot keep circling
Your grave waiting for
Your bones to resurface
so I can pick them clean.

I cannot keep holding
Your slits wrists in my hands,
Your gunshot in my ears,
Your brain and blood in my fingers,
As if that was really you.

I cannot keep waiting for
A ghost I don't believe in
On principle.

You are a rippling memory.
You're absence is becoming normal.
You are leaving me a second time.
And I want to reach out and hold on to you,
but you ...

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