A cloud rests on the surface of the earth
and my heart, like a paperweight,
tethers me to the stormy waters.
I can’t foresee where I’m heading.
But there’s something in the heavy air
compelling my lungs conform to the feeling
of letting go
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 4:27 AM UTC
A cloud rests on the surface of the earth
and my heart, like a paperweight,
tethers me to the stormy waters.
I can’t foresee where I’m heading.
But there’s something in the heavy air
compelling my lungs conform to the feeling
of letting go