The sound of the gentle, sprinkling rain
mixes with the constant tumble of the dryer
and the softer songs I've collected over time
singing their messages on repeat.
And as I breathe, the cool, fresh air
fills my lungs and pools in my heart,
an elixir of comfort and self-forgiveness.
The mistakes I've made, so bittersweet.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
