(I have been on hiatus from writing poetry for a year and a half, hopeful that this poem will spark many more)
It's so tyrannical how my mind works.
Killing so many thoughts
So many words.
Hoping this dusty silence has a chance.
The bones relapsing, creaking and cracking.
Morning breath slipping,
and my eyes wishing they were seeing.
Trying to encompass everything of the like.
Allowing the sun to set, and for there to be the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment