How strange it is
This comfortable sorrow
Sinking between the pages words awash around you
These heart-holding hands that fill your chest to empty
A lovely sort of sadness in others' words
Like a soft blanket atop a feather pillow
Yet in a bed
Where one side is left bare and empty
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
How strange it is
This comfortable sorrow
Sinking between the pages words awash around you
These heart-holding hands that fill your chest to empty
A lovely sort of sadness in others' words
Like a soft blanket atop a feather pillow
Yet in a bed
Where one side is left bare and empty