Image: pinterest
Like a fragile infant being wrapped in an umbilical cord, the forest has always been surrounded by a life – so still, so vulnerable – that silence doesn't seem deafening within the woods.
Is that a type of loneliness?
YOU ARE READING
my mind
Poetrywriting poems/ prose so that I can sleep Insta: @aphrodite.is.queer still updating
Forest.
Image: pinterest
Like a fragile infant being wrapped in an umbilical cord, the forest has always been surrounded by a life – so still, so vulnerable – that silence doesn't seem deafening within the woods.
Is that a type of loneliness?