trembling on the words
i want to say,
these same words
everyday i pray,
my composure
slowly cracking
for something
little more than a memory
a dull frame to keep
my dark thoughts away
i keep fanning in vain
feeling only the cool air's embrace
mesmerized by this dull light that keeps me alive
clinging to a past feeling
fixated on anything but healing.
YOU ARE READING
Ink Stuff
PuisiA drop of ink defines thousands of memories and millions of emotions. Cover by: Desi_damsel
