Poetry By Erika

By Erika Farley
He stands there
He plucks his mind for words
Many to choose from, to wash over me
To hurt me or to heal me?


He chose the wrong winds made of words to wash over me
Words that were blue, filled with hurt and pain;
Grey smoke made up of the steam in which
His hatred burned, like a fiery viper
He left third-degree burns,


I wait, a sullen mask gracing me,
Knowing if I weren’t numb now
All my seams would crack.


Now, I walk away, clutching my heart in my hands
As to protect it from his flame of hatred
Afraid it would turn to ash.
Then, ever the tourist, he calls to my back,
“Your silence is childish, how do you think I feel,
As usual, your actions fed to my fury.” He spits
“Thus, your apology is the one owed!”


“But you hurt...”
My heart has started to be licked by the fury tongue of
The flames he threw my way
“But you’re the one who...”


He has left me again, to bury my heart back into my chest;
“I’m sorry,” I say. After all, I am the one who caused it.
He’s the hurricane in which I need to recoup

And I’m here left to say sorry.
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Hey everyone! It's Sara, and today I brought you some awesome poetry by my friend Erika! She loves to write poetry and is very good at it. From now on, every Saturday, you will see a new piece from Erika! But you don't have to wait until Saturday, you could just follow her on Instagram: @rikadfarley . Remember, tomorrow I won't be here, so I'll see you on Monday with another post. Okay, Bye! Type to you later!


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