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little-wrenPoems
I’m beginning to notice how lonely I've been lately Every breath is a steady unassurance Dismissive, Wildly accusatory Summer left-- And with it, Sunken splotches on my face Freckles the color of tree bark. Golden hue on the backs of my legs and tops of my shoulders, An oil canvas gathering depth But fall is here, life transitions away from the heat Even the Earth tilts away, shielding its skin My body touches the ground and feels an echo As if emptiness could speak As if depression was cognizant enough to stir the grasses and whisper to me Encouraging the deep draw inward into hollow vastness Peeling away the fibers and stripping me down Pointing up into the infinite blackness and saying, Stay there.
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Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 2:29 PM UTC
Realizing Death of Self
I’m beginning to notice how lonely I've been lately Every breath is a steady unassurance Dismissive, Wildly accusatory Summer left-- And with it, Sunken splotches on my face Freckles the color of tree bark. Golden hue on the backs of my legs and tops of my shoulders, An oil canvas gathering depth But fall is here, life transitions away from the heat Even the Earth tilts away, shielding its skin My body touches the ground and feels an echo As if emptiness could speak As if depression was cognizant enough to stir the grasses and whisper to me Encouraging the deep draw inward into hollow vastness Peeling away the fibers and stripping me down Pointing up into the infinite blackness and saying, Stay there.
little-wren
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little-wren
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 2:29 PM UTC
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