This feeling consumes me in all the strangest ways; in raw, fierce ways that leave me scarred each single time
And it leaves me asking: am I simply bruised in ways that can't be fixed or am I just as madly in love?
I'll go ahead and trod this lonely road each evening to pick up flowers that are just like me— flowers left on hard ground, to wilt and bloom, endure and survive
But will I ever learn to love you in a way that's safe? Will I ever learn to love you in a way that doesn't leave me wounded?
YOU ARE READING
Forgotten Letters
PoetryI think poetry is one of the greatest outlets for bottled up emotions and words best left unsaid. So, this book is just another one of my outlets and I hope while you may find yourself relating or not, you may still be able to enjoy this poetry as i...
