They say that in order to write,
Poets must bleed to make poetry.
Drowning in the pain of the night,
Words made from a broken memory.
A long time ago I also bled to write,
Reminiscing what could have been.
It was long before I found the light,
A spark nothing like I've ever seen.
You saved me from that curse,
The curse of writing as they say.
And now I write in this free verse,
No more of dark and stormy days.
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Thank you for showing me that what's past is truly past. Thank you for showing me better and happier days.
YOU ARE READING
Everything You Never Knew
Poesía❝It's been so long since I've shadowed away the words that would come after you. The words that would be my awakening, my breaking, and my healing. But now, it's time.❞ - Hi! Welcome to my second poetry book, 'Everything You Never Knew'! Poetry has...
