Sitting in the forest
on a cold, winter's day,
I allow the woods to claim me.
There, my soul will stay.
And as the seasons turn
upon the spinning wheel,
my body lies in rest
and my mind begins to heal.
And as winter shifts to spring
and the days grow long and bright,
the flowers grown upon my skin
will fill my heart with light.
And as spring turns to summer,
I'll learn to let love in.
At last, I'll turn and face forward
and from there, my life will begin.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
