She walks on eggshells,
a thousand shards of glass,
an iron gate around
her heart.
She struggles to breathe,
fire filling her lungs,
as she walks into
the sun.
She is sick of being afraid,
dancing in the rain,
she holds onto the hope
that it'll get better
again.
She is lost,
afraid and alone,
she's reaching for help,
but she's falling
from grace.
You weren't there
when she needed a friend most,
when she was crying to the
ghost of who she
wanted to be.
And now she lays,
in a glittery waste
of who she never knew she was,
beauty, love,
and grace.
YOU ARE READING
Delicate Flower
PoetryThis is a Compilation of my originals poems, mostly drawn from my real life, some inspired by others'. From happiness, motherhood, sadness, grief, anger, this compilation of works really covers emotions and thoughts covering a wide range of experie...
