you are here.
our minds
are vast,
we often
get lost.
noises get
louder.
eyes are
staring.
listen
to my voice.
you are here.
all is calm.
nobody is
looking.
you are safe.
i am here
protecting you.
YOU ARE READING
Burning Home
Poesia[ a poetry collection about grieving and becoming. ] I wish for the day when flowers no longer sink in water. When their eyes gaze not ignominy but proud; even dust can be seen as gold. And exhaustion feels rewarding.
overthinker
you are here.
our minds
are vast,
we often
get lost.
noises get
louder.
eyes are
staring.
listen
to my voice.
you are here.
all is calm.
nobody is
looking.
you are safe.
i am here
protecting you.
