Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
Am I shaking from the cold?
From the fire on my skin,
or the light I'm drowning in?
It won't wear thin.
If anything, it grows stronger
all the while the time grows longer.
I'll still be here,
you with me here,
waiting.

Until you tell me to stop.
Genevieve
Written by
Genevieve  19/F/USA
(19/F/USA)   
  301
     Fawn and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems