if i continue along this road
will i become ragged and damaged?
will i have to drag my wearsome feet
until i cannot go on
crawling back from that point was
the hardest thing i have done.
i'm not sure that my broken, sullied fingers
would be able to claw at the dirt track
back towards my old self.
i cannot get hurt again,
even if that means picking myself up
from the dust, screaming at the top of my lungs,
that i need to be free;
i need to be able to breathe.
can i trust you to meet me,
smile on your face,
to pull me into your arms?
my rock amongst my crumbling thoughts.
n.b.
YOU ARE READING
Inkspills Compilation
PoetryI wanted to create a little collection of my poetry where I spill my feelings on love, loss and hope. Hopefully you'll all enjoy these :)
