Sting Poem by Cait Oiler
Sting
I'd bleed for you,
But I've forgotten the pain,
The short pressure,
The sting,
The overflow of emotion,
As the empty drifts away,
I've forgotten almost everything…
But if I close my eyes,
I can still see,
The faint ivory lines,
And savor the feeling of release.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: forgotten
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8/28/2026 12:41:01 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
