I feel a salty breath beneath my lids.
There are no answers to the missing that is in me.
It’s normal.
It’s quiet.
It’s bare.
I hang my hopes like dream catchers.
The wooden circle I believed as a child.
Yet what would come?
I’ve done so much the
that’s left- leaves me speechless.
Come back.
I scream in silence.
Come back.
I write in secret.
Come back.
I’ve told and told again.
Is it that I have nothing left?
Then how do I fill up once again?
Add comment
Comments