Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
I still find the the ache in new places
In the memory of still water
In the tinge of early autumn
And in the west of day
It sits in my soup
In the dulled stare
I packed my faculties
Looking for somewhere
that doesn't hurt.
I still find the the ache in new places
that know not of my grief.
The Noose
Written by
The Noose  32/F/Standing on the gallows
(32/F/Standing on the gallows)   
198
     Melanie and Timothy
Please log in to view and add comments on poems