The grass was cool beneath her feet, but she did not mind because the harsh winds hurt her no longer. Though, she is not okay...but what more can she be when the thought of drowning is more inviting than fighting to stay above the surface? For her...there is no redemption, and never will be, and sometimes we just have to be okay with being "fine".
YOU ARE READING
Every Tear
PoésieStaring at these blank pages my mind is empty, the words won't bleed from my fingertips, for they only know my eyes.
