For H – untitled, off prompt…
—
I said I wouldn’t cry
Wouldn’t let the quivering
of my lips win, break me.

I said I wouldn’t bend,
Wouldn’t sag beneath this weight
this unrelenting burden of grief

A harsh wind clasps
Me by my throbbing throat
Enrobing me in the scales
Of its cold, wintery fingers.

Something’s stolen you
From me, and all I have left
Is hope, that when tomorrow comes
The Sun will shine.