The warmth in my chest can not simply be explained in words.
A filling peace—
like warm, home-made meals
A calm breeze
Lush forest trails
Waves crashing on beaches
Sand between your toes
Giggling children
Hearty laughs— the ones from the diaphragm
The ones that people stare at
speechless, waiting for more
Joy at its purest
That kind of warmth
YOU ARE READING
Fuck You, Nicely
PoetryOne finding themselves, ups and downs; streams of melancholy and yearning of the heart. Contains time stamps of a life that seem to fade too fast and rants through life lessons I often forget. There might be some triggers with eating and just mental...
