Author Information
save me
Folder:
2021 when the past turns into
little half moons on the canvas that
covers me
when his name in any context ties knots
at the back of my throat
if only that could save me
so I go process in the worst way
possible
I’m running on empty
I think maybe I’ve cried out all my sins
but I still need to write out all my
songs
am I lonely or just alone
when you’re here but I can’t find you
I throw all this shit out into the
universe
and hope it makes some sense
It Makes A Lot Of Sense!
Poetry is an excellent vehicle for sharing this kaleidiscope of emitions as notions for contemplation. Alone alone all alone. Talking and saying ends isolation (I forgot that recently). Silence can be wesponizing. cool write!