Whenever I feel like I am falling short of myself or another, I sit on the floor in my room and pray.
each time I do, it feels different, a lot of the time I shed tears.
I speak to the silence, and there's something comforting about the way I can just say what's on my mind.
I'll forever tell my secrets to the invisible
I used to feel around in the darkness with shaking hands, anticipating my fingers being stung.
I didn't trust my vision so I reached out to feel my way along and for balance.
Then, my hands brushed up against smooth stones..
they clasped onto glossy leaves and vines, soft feathers, rough skin, cold water, and the strings of a guitar.
Even though I like to sit in the shadows a lot, light is within me and fills me up.
I conjure light when I decide to speak with love for myself, and even more spills out when I say THANK YOU.
YOU ARE READING
finite
Poetryyou could set me on fire and I'd call it passion. this is a small collection of poems marking my progression through a healing process. healing is not at all linear, there are good days and bad days. times when you question yourself and moments when...
