Dec 2017
i put something behind me.
or at least i thought i did;
because when i turned around,
with the intention of sticking my finger out,
i suddenly realized
that my throwing needed more practice
and that all i was putting behind me was
weighing down my back.
as i slowly exhale, they fall in front of me, ready to be picked up again.
or at least i thought i did;
because when i turned around,
with the intention of sticking my finger out,
i suddenly realized
that my throwing needed more practice
and that all i was putting behind me was
weighing down my back.
as i slowly exhale, they fall in front of me, ready to be picked up again.
23.12.17 / 16.32 / i hate writer's block, but i read someone's poem and one single verse inspired this one. thank you, i guess.
