Literary Yard

Search for meaning


By: Mitch Green


I took her breath into my lungs – all of it.

Intoxication never hit so hard; that surreal spin submersing beneath my humanity with enough influence to drive me off the ledge from this prodigal possession. It was all a mistake to witness the light from her eyes wane into shades of white – before slipping from the space we built.

A flood had become my hands,

Painting, pouring this world anew.

In return for the destroyed, ruined and broken aftermath, which would cure me.

I came to realize that I was not the miracle,

Rather a pick axe prying into the frozen; more frigid than chaotic.

Breaking the fracture even further to splinter, even further, until the oceans were set free.

Red tides befitting a revolution.

Of just you and I.

We need not mortal wears, but only to sit before the acid seas, with a shot glass in one hand and ours in each other’s.

With our bone smiles left to endure the dawn of that summer night.


Mitch Green, 25, is currently attending SNHU (Southern New Hampshire University) to acquire his BA in Creative Writing, with a minor in Screenwriting. He has written and have had published several poetic collections known as: ‘Rhymes of Sin’, ‘Godart’, ‘Paint Me Odd’, and ‘Monsters’ – which will be released later this month.


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