are these jealousy's hands
around my throat
or are they mine?
stealing air
when it is not needed.
ridges perfectly fall
upon these handcrafted shards
of sand and time,
every piece of sand
cascades down the shelled slope
that is their world
waiting,
always waiting
for something to carry them to
somewhere further.
the destination matters little to them,
simply
further.
YOU ARE READING
ruby
Poetrypoems about the next stage of my life, hopefully about new experiences but also about hanging onto something the heart has desperately longed for and isn't quite ready to give up
