Memories
Memories of clinking glass and cold metal , shadows dance across the hardwood.
Moving in unison, perfect synchronization.
They burn, the memoirs. I can feel them clawing with their sharp nails, trying to rip their way out.
They hide inside me where you can't see them, in a place so dark you'll never find.
YOU ARE READING
Things never said
PoetryPoetry written by a lost soul at different points in my life. I hope to get feedback and I hope that you'll enjoy 😊 as reading please keep in mind that I am a novice poet with a soul full of words that can only glimpse into what I may be feeling bu...
