The room finally felt warm, dark except for one candle that held the most beautiful fire I had ever seen.
There were so many overwhelming emotions that when I raised my head, my tearful eyes straight to the illumination, I saw butterflies formed in front of my tired eyes and they were delicately outlined by the light, melting the uncertainty.
When at last the heat of the room was transferred to my body in a hug of calm.
YOU ARE READING
We bleed through words
PoetryI might say I'm writing what I feel, the feeling of driving in a highway sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes tired, sometimes blasting the mood, sometimes just the calmness and sometimes happy. Writers are often given the gift of being specta...
