Just Another Girl

Please, let her breathe for me.
She will not.
She just lay there like a body to be examined in a morgue.
Last night, I wished to be this very girl.
Dead.
Yet, I am alive, standing and looking down at her body.
She stared up at me with dead green eyes.
As if trying to speak to me.
I noted her deep green eyes, her chocolate brown hair.
I didn't know her name, but I called her by what she looked best like.
A Morgan.
To someone, she had a name.
She meant something.
But her death seemed to say that she was probably
Just another girl.

Reviews

[Ramya]

A very good poem! There is this wonderful imagery that threads every line together. Nice flow too. Spooky types!

[Pax Analog]

This chill reflection has a heart-rending subtext applicable to us all: Who or what ARE we? And I mean an embodied impassioned sense beyond reason alone. The husks of our vacated forms answer nothing. Only an eternal fire avails.