Deafen the noise, shroud of darkness.
So I may hear my thoughts again.
Bring the cold, like snow, to singe its frozen fire against my fragile skin,
So that I may feel my body again.
Hurt me, the golden sun who showers me in love-
So that I may know how to cry again.
Rip me apart, vile expectation,
So that I may know to be let down again.
Steal my thoughts sweet shadow-puppeteer,
So I may not think for myself again.
YOU ARE READING
Birds in Glass Castles
PoetryMy collection of poems through the last few years in some of their rawest forms; more steppingstones of my journey as a writer.
