It’s a tee. It’s a dress. It’s the new Graphic T-shirt Dress.

Blood Dust

I’m scared of dying
you know?
I didn’t think I was
But I am

I lie in bed at night
stare at the ceiling
Wondering
does the death rattle hurt?

Will my soul slide through my fontanelle?
Will my dad be there to collect me?
Where will I go?
How will I know, which door?

I witness the aunties, uncles, parents
topple like skittles
Makes me wonder
who’s next?

I feel the earthquake
Shaking
in the centre of
my core

Those arms that have held me steady
Guidance disintegrating
into blood dust
Lifted on a transient wind

Armies of generation
limping to the frontline
Shielding the bullets
so that we may live

I didn’t know how cataclysmic it would feel
How the realization of mortality
would monsoon the foundations
of my frenzied world

Will this central quaking
inch me forward
toward
the front line?

The earth tremors
Breaks open
we all
fall down

Blood
becomes dust
after all

© wildwomenlove poetry

Blood Dust

wildwomenlove

ADELAIDE, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 29

Artist's Description

if no-one was here to witness our journey
would we have lived at all?

Artwork Comments

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