None are innocent in our past scenes,
have plenty of horrific filled internal screams;
Eviscerated mine consume those eternal naïve screens.
Yet –
from damaging experiences made senses keen;
mine hands are clean,
Have own resurfaced sheen?
YOU ARE READING
Between an Antidote & a Dreary Phase
PoetryMy second Edition of a variety of Poetry feelings. For all the support and encouragements you all share with me - I do humbly appreciate all that you say and do. The feeling I get when another writer comments, or votes is imperial to how I interr...
