I whisper to the sky
And I press my fingertips to the ground
This anger raw, uncultured, loud, heavy
Seeps into my skin
Through the softness of the dirt
Leaving not a place to hang it
And so I plant a seed of promise
Take this anger
And I will let destruction grow.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Grass Grows
PoetryA poetry collection about life & death, love, loss, & grief. Written through the lens of a 15-17-year-old girl. These poems are a collection of my story. Take care of them. They mean the world to me.
