Let me be the voice to a movement.
Let me be the fire from a spark.
Let me be the bass line in my veins.
Let me be the restlessness deep in my bones, devouring me whole. Let me be the wolf shrouded beneath fragile skin. Let me be the wailing howl pressed against the cage of my heart and let me be free.
Let
m e
-- Because this was never about you
YOU ARE READING
Dear M.
PoetryA broken heart. A fragmented soul. One pair of earbuds. One still, small voice through it all. Take my hand and come with me as my earbuds lead the way through the dark and through the light.
