was I to think you have to be
My life’s blood
My protector
My air
My life’s lovebeaten from your hallowed translucent shield
The pain from this will fade
Yet the bruises will remain forever and a day

The air I breathe has been contaminated
with dried shriveled dreams, bubble burst, hopes dispersed.
Was my fantasies of a mind blowing love that
I live for every day
a fictional novel.

The moist kisses that linger for day on end
Will eventually dissipate over time.

No, they just did not exist within you.



Lara Wilson

Lara Wilson

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Lara holds a B.A. in Comparative Literature. She's a native New Yorker, an after-school English tutor, and a bookworm.
Lara loves photography and horseback riding.
Lara Wilson

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