Her hands shake slowly at first,
She clenches her long fingers into a fist repetitively, calmly.
In her mind she knows what's coming next.
She grits her teeth and grinds them slowly together to stop them chattering despite her warmth.
Someone looks but doesn't
notice; doesn't see.
She looks out the window at the aesthetic leaves and dreams of freedom and being carefree.
But reality comes crashing down and so she does what has been instructed;
Takes a breath and raises her head.
-holly boyd
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
