The ache of August
and the ache of eighteen
is pressing into my ribs.and I feel like
I'll always return Home.
YOU ARE READING
Morning Songs
PoetryMorning songs is a sweet and tragic collection created in a time of unfurling need. A balance between tenderness and the greed of love. Less speaking, and more taking jabs at forcing you to question how much goodness you hold. From syrupy memories...
Ribs
The ache of August
and the ache of eighteen
is pressing into my ribs.and I feel like
I'll always return Home.