We took a rough draft poem and tried to add more imagery and stronger diction. This is what we came up with:

The wound of you
slices across my heart.
The gash runs deep and purple,
but eventually, it scabs over,
leaving a jagged scar and
a dull ache.

Will your loss kill me?

I’ve cried all my tears,
run dry like an empty desert.
My throat tightens, feels bloody.
Your memory gushes forth and
spills onto the starlit sand.
I lap it up, quenching my thirst,
savoring the sharp remnants
of you.