Poem: holy water

Having to get out of bed
brings me to my knees–
but only metaphorically,
because physically,
I have not left
my bed in days.

You consumed me
like a parasite
grazing upon its host.
I am the empty vessel
for which the ghost
of your soul resides.

I wither in self-pity
and drown in
a grief I did not
know was possible.

I am hollow,
carved out with curettes,
sutured, and sent home,
but devoid of ever
feeling home again.

Author: karianawriting

Writing is how I live immortal.

One thought on “Poem: holy water”

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