Suicide (Distance)

the long slow breath
of your indifferent stare...
miles away, across the room.
your words ring hollow,
and your face disappears
in the gloved hand
that dares not touch...
i planted flowers by your grave,
but i fear the birds
have eaten the last seeds...

i die on your cross
in a land you dare not go to...
behind a door
you choose not to open!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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