Locked in I was
and grey spatter I spit
under fear I crept
for satan's name, used so,
at my dawn and at my wake
my own voice, soft like flowers who tremble
under trees so steadfast
then upon not one, but many
a sunrise, my voice grew up to be wind
~my love out-loud in the living room
prayers and fears to sentence my mouth not one more day
Freedom knew me
my pen knew what it wanted at 11
picking it up at 27
never so brilliantly
has ink bubbled
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 1:36 PM UTC
Locked in I was
and grey spatter I spit
under fear I crept
for satan's name, used so,
at my dawn and at my wake
my own voice, soft like flowers who tremble
under trees so steadfast
then upon not one, but many
a sunrise, my voice grew up to be wind
~my love out-loud in the living room
prayers and fears to sentence my mouth not one more day
Freedom knew me
my pen knew what it wanted at 11
picking it up at 27
never so brilliantly
has ink bubbled
heart and pen align in love
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