It was unsteady
The floor shook steadily beneath me
I was able to hold my ground
Despite the cuts, scrapes, and bruises I suffered.
Maybe jumping over barefoot wasn't the best idea.
Dirt trailed all over my legs.
The mud was thick, but I didn't slip.
Difficult to fathom, but I faltered only once.
caught, a single time.
The point though, was that I made it over.
I survived.
I believed in myself that I could and it paid off.
I landed.
And when I did
12:04
YOU ARE READING
Two Five Nine
PoésieA collection of poems , all written at midnight during the Covid-19 Pandemic. Streams of consciousness, ranging from all ends of the emotional spectrum.
