Writing about it,
Talking about it,
Feels like
Prodding a fresh wound
Repeatedly,
Till my entire being
Shudders from the pain
Or the aftermath of it;
Salient, vengeful.
A growing abyss to which
There's no escape.
YOU ARE READING
lifeline
Poetry"maybe these words we so infinitely and collectively channel our souls' plights, power and yearnings...will save us one day."
