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Feb 2021
Empty space

My words don't have a home, no worries of being alone
They have each others cues in understanding how we use them
My words don't have a home,
They live inside my power dome
A guide for cells, nerves array
You could read(feel)them like braille, tracing the spine of my vertebrae
My words need no introduction, they
Create a page of mass production, thoughts zooming in and out like blinking lights, causing a word-collision or combustion
My words need no help, they have a voice as loud as a bomb, move justly
Onto my paper, taking care to do no harm
My words are all I have
To show you who Iam
Words that provide a map
Of where I am and my future
With the touch of pen to hand
Written by
Latitisha Hendricks  45/F
(45/F)   
38
 
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