tales of a shattered record
the feel of warm hands
were like a distant memory.
the calming vibes that ingulfed
the room were no more.
the only thing i had to look forward
to, was the process of picking of the
scattered pieces.
because even if i was put back together,
the sound wouldn't be the same.
YOU ARE READING
Bees, Pollen, and What Comes From Them
Poesía- indefinite hiatus - [ part of the 'free your body' tag ] · second poetry collection · "Flowers don't worry about how they're going to bloom. They just open up and turn toward the light and that makes them beautiful." - Jim Carrey create...
