Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2018
Without them what little is left of me would crumble
I brush my finger against the cold jagged stone, savoring the protection they provide.
I notice not for the first time the brick and mortar I have set,
Yet I'm not sure if I put them up to keep others out,
Or to keep me in.
Written by
Katey
Please log in to view and add comments on poems