Mar 2016
Im lashed to the tracks
Waiting
For the trains that come
With no warning whistle.
The air is crushed from my lungs
And my heart shatters.
Still I lie
Still I wait
Still I live.
Sometimes I laugh
Before I cry.
Mercy travels elsewhere.
Waiting
For the trains that come
With no warning whistle.
The air is crushed from my lungs
And my heart shatters.
Still I lie
Still I wait
Still I live.
Sometimes I laugh
Before I cry.
Mercy travels elsewhere.
My gorgeous nephew died just over 7 weeks ago. Whenever I think of him, I struggle to realize he's truly gone and it genuinely feels like I can't breathe
