chapter 95
"god"there was a time
when your lips
whispered words
that no poet
could harvestand every night
i prayed for someone
like you;
and i think God heard mebecause in the first
month of two thousand
and eighteen,God grabbed me
and saved me.I will always remember
the first time that i saw you.my eyes
were in dismay
because i was able to see
something so bright
in the darkest room
of my house.I remember thinking:
God will take him away from me.so I pushed and pledged
and that i wouldn't
fall for youand now it's the third
month of two thousand
and nine teenand you are still
the reason why I
float.and i still pray
late at night
inside of my head,I thank God
for sending an angel
in January.and I still see red.
but i bleed out colours
that no artist could
harvestand even though
you conjure up a
light that warms me
I am still in the darkness.but
you make it all okay
YOU ARE READING
gone with the wind
Poesiewith love care and literature, draining and negative feelings can be gone with the wind. HIGHEST: #64 in Poetry #2 in aesthetic poems #7 in spirituality poetry exploring spiritual and physical worlds and the emotional wellbeing of myself and other...