The spider's thread
offered in the dark,
is a spot of light
upon the floor.
To open the curtains
would let more in,
but sometimes that feels
like such a chore.
Regardless, that thread
brings comfort to me
as I sit on my bed
and quietly adore
the silken sunlight
that soothed my nerves
and persuaded me open
the once-closed door.
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...
