Oh, Ana.

• Catherine Bransdon, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2013

Savage.
Your love for me was too intense.
I hurt and you cursed and you, hated.
With dirty hands that left stains on my hands, that clawed at my wrists and pulled me so close that I was
suffocating.
Choking on your coffee breath.
Gasping,
through eternal kisses, blue lips frozen in tangles.
Staring up above through black tear soaked lashes.
Poison,
in your blue eyes, locked with mine, falling through, over and over.
I ache.
Let me go.
Your love for me is too intense.
Savage.