Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
Or if the morning doesn't come
by the time you find home
I'll paint white doves by your feet
to take care of your bones,

so that if you can't open your eyes
by the time I come around
I'll lay in your grave, meet the gray ocean and
let you be

and then
maybe
you'll get to know peace,

and the wind will tell me it's okay for you to leave.
Swells
Written by
Swells  29/F/Utah
(29/F/Utah)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems