Me just thinking outloud today. I could not derive at a full length poem, but I thought these little gems were at least worth sharing. It’s better than having writer’s block. Right?
Our muddy interlocking hands.
No need to question it.
Uprooted from the depths of hell,
The creases of her mouth have victoriously reached the mountain top.
Her soul breathes.
Me vs. My Will
Sometimes the pain can be too much to bear
I don’t die…
I just forget how to breathe.