June 14th 2018 I,

I did nothing.

You came,

you pounced,

stripped my worth from my skin,

took the warmth from my breath, 

left me cold,

alone,

the trees beside me russled.

the leaves whispering,

calling me 

'slut'

Am I To Blame,

is a bigger question then i know to answer

is my name deserving of capital letters

my poems deserving of leaving my mind

of adorning a pale screen

thin page

The Annaversary Is In Eight Days

How many years

Will crumble away

Before I can sleep

Without seeing

His

Face

?