The river rushes below me. My fingers grip a tree branch, dangling over the water. All I need to do is let go. I've been thinking about this moment for months. It's out of the way. It's as peaceful as it gets. Nobody needs to know.
But somehow, my heart starts to beat, after months of being quiet. Panic starts to set in.
I turn back to the bank. I'm not ready for this today.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 3
Poetrythird poem collection. they aren't in any particular order or anything like that, and after 100, there will always be a new one. if you've been here a while, I'm sure you know the drill. now, about the cover. it was a random Thursday, and an old fri...
