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Intrépide

Intrépide

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 21, 2020
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Poetry
[HIGHEST RANK #10] [HIGHEST RANK #123 in poetic hashtag] A book for poems written by me, and me only. My emotions are what a book folds My dreams, may the sky bring you to fly. My desires ain't to fly high But to dig with the palms And the broken arms To the earth Where the soul sighs. I ache not for justice But of oceans of unfair courtesy. Show me your skin Because I m not ready to die. -Me
(CC) Attrib. NonComm. NoDerivs
#386
independence
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I've always hated the saying "Time heals all wounds." Maybe in most cases that may be true. In my experience with life and pain however, time has only ever bled out the wound. The scars that the wounds left behind though, are often so deep that just looking at them becomes painful to the mind. Time only heals what you let go of. Sometimes letting go and moving on just doesn't feel possible; no matter how much time you let pass you by. These poems signify what time hasn't healed for me.

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