Rain, a soft quiet, or a drowning effect.
and I've found myself in both places
ambushed by death, this sadness, this ache
I can't seem to erase it.
Outside my bedroom window, summer whispers
as particles streaming scream, there is more to
this life than a ghost of his memories.
All of this that I am feeling, I do not feel
I am ready for moving on. And I will walk in
the steps of each moment.
YOU ARE READING
Vulnerable
PoetryBe careful to whom you give your heart; they don't have to be perfect, but they need to be consistent in how they apply themselves through the right efforts. I, of mind, body, and spirit am vulnerable. Once a woman who thought that happiness was bro...
