lxxiii

29 3 0
                                    

8:56 pm

all the words i wish your fingers could feel

all the times i've wished

you could know

the silent sorrow

lying stiff in my throat

like cold

and broken teeth

i wish you could hear

the child that cries

in my flesh and makes

my bones ache

i wish you could speak to my fear

i wish you could hold me

in your arms like oceans

and soothe what my muscles remember

all the bruises, all the sour hope

all the screams and scraped knees

the cloudy days so dark

i wondered if my eyes

were even open

the days that i felt

like august, and that i, too

would soon turn to fall

the language of flowersWhere stories live. Discover now