Pretty much sums up these past few weeks for me. I haven’t posted in quite a while, maybe because I feel too unworthy of anything these days, but i suppose poetry is my one true home and I somehow find my way back each time.
Your feet they tremble.
Sink deep into the depths.
Your breath seems foreign,
listless in its content.
Around you see only the furrows,
reaching out to drag you below.
These wrists are only as still-
as the eyes that shiver in the quill.
There is no cover to warm you now
as the ashes ice you dry.
No fire has ever burned as cold
as these winters that heat you by.
A body, you lay motionless
silent in your heavy cries.
No shoulder or shadow
to creep your side.
only the lonesome days,
of the tears you can not cry.