A gentle puff of pure love,
and babylike is
my sweet dove;
you're not a caretaker
but you see the pain
that lies behind
my numbed eyes
of years having been kept-behind
and left to rot.
You can't pull me out
since your grasp isn't as strong as needed
but I take it with a grain of salt
and curl up while sucked-in
too.
I know you got a lot
and years ahead of my own path
that
they don't want me while
you still hand me
your light.
I think you want to do away
with me
but you're used to
the bootcamp of
your life, yet
it strengthened you
as mine blended my head
and every atom part of it.
YOU ARE READING
indoors.
PoetryWhat's a college junior to do when her young adulthood has been robbed of a rainbow of events, support, more than one tight bond, and life lessons? The birth of this collection of poetry.
