EVERYWHERE;
There is salt.
It's in the air;
I breathe it in.
My lungs are burning.
It's in my eyes;
Tears sting but the pain is small compared to the abrading grit beneath my eyelids.
It's on my lips;
They were are already bleeding before, now I can no longer feel them.
This is how it feels to be in love with you.
YOU ARE READING
finite
Poetryyou could set me on fire and I'd call it passion. this is a small collection of poems marking my progression through a healing process. healing is not at all linear, there are good days and bad days. times when you question yourself and moments when...
