Sheding Water Drops Poem by Erin Hanson

Palms in hand
closed tightly fitting right into
the face.
steaming the tears falling
non stop.
planning a stop sign
a whole where i can stop
thinking im loosing
sickend almost as a dead weed
drooping towards the
hell of evil
as a deadly poisend rose.
the viens are
kiling stabbing within my
heart is eating away
as the love inside
has an attachted disease.
molds of the spreading water drops
steaming off my face.
with palms tightly in hand.