Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2011
There is comfort to be had in some things familiar
But there was no comfort in that familiar voice
Telling me those familiar things
There was no comfort when the ground opened up beneath my feet
And my arms flailed about, with nothing to reach for but words sharp
But blunt with overuse.
Written by
tanya
873
   Julia
Please log in to view and add comments on poems