The wind howls like beasts
darting through the trees,
carrying whims and worries
on its back.
It combs my tangled hair,
my bones, and leaves me bare,
and my woes are added high
upon the stack.
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...
