Danielle Kieschnick


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Her

She stumbles out of the crowded bar
And into the crisp night air.
Drowning her sorrows? No.
She cannot drown them, only dull their screams
Into haunting whispers for a while.
But she knows, even as the blood runs slow and thick,
Even as her body is filled with warm, numbing poison,
That the heat and quiet will die away
Before she reaches home.

[Hata Bildir]