I am not breathing
air is missing from my lungs
like that gorgeous pair of earrings
I lost long time ago.
I am not speaking
voices break up in my throat
my head feels as if it’s sinking
in an ocean with no boat
I no longer say tomorrow
For a while seems I have stopped
My thoughts drawn in their own sorrow
Wine already broke them all.
My all is broken
and all the pieces have a hole.
By Jocy Medina
Part of a Reader’s Digest Poem competition – where we write a poem every day. The theme of day 12 was damage.