You are the knife, cutting the noose holding me against my will.
You are the hand, reaching out to pull me above the drowning waves.
You are the rope, wrapping about me to save me from falling.
You are the reminder that I'm going to be okay.
I'm not alone in this.
I still have fight in my bones.
I still have hope pumping my heart.
I still have faith filling my lungs.
I still have you.
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Xx sorry for not updating!!! Things going on, and yeah :/ But I'm back
-Nadia
YOU ARE READING
I tried
PoetryLife is a series of snapshots. Your memories are the photos, stored away. You often bring out the old, thick photo album and skim through the times you had. What do your photos look like? Are they filled with sunshine and laughter? Are they filled...
