We are butterflies with tattered wings
and torn souls —
We're all hanging on slivers of hope
that one day we'll wake with a newfound beauty
and maybe our wings will flap tirelessly and our souls
will be bound together by a freedom from all that's ever haunted our beings.
We'll heal,
take our time to revel in a newfound happiness
that'll run through our translucent veins like water.
We'll be the makers of our own happiness
and the kings and queens of our own kingdoms.
Someday, we'll be.
YOU ARE READING
Starry night skies (completed)
PoetryUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
