9:19 pm, Monday, 30th October
I haven't seen the ocean in a while,
but I haven't forgotten the salty scent of the blue,
nor has my memory faded in regards to the image of scattered waves
frothing at the surface as contact is made with golden sand.
I haven't forgotten the feeling of the wind as it tugs at my hair
and kisses my cheeks a rosy pink,
I haven't.
YOU ARE READING
dysphoria
Poetrysilent pleas from a heart that's been tainted blue, a mind that ripples in constant turmoil and a mouth that remains shut //
