Your vivid voice,
so dear to me.
Your precious soul
sends me to dream.
Of your grace in words,
your page must not break,
instead send me climbing,
but not to wake.
For once you go mute,
my pulse is then gone,
and the angels will take me,
singing their song.
Into reality,
my fantesty crumbles,
and your beautiful words,
turn into mumbles.
So never go silent,
your words never end.
Instead making music
for my mouth to send.
Even after your cover closes,
and your placed on a stand,
remember your differences
you made onto man.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. From the broken soul.
PoetryPoetry written over a time span of over ten years. This includes some of my darkest and lightest moments and the stories of others. Most deal with topics such as suicide, depression, family, eating disorders, religion, self harm, acceptance, recover...
