Word Exchange.
One of the harshest things one can encounter.
Sure, an interchange of words can be sweet as the day; but that's only sometimes.
That sweetness has become a scarce rarity - it sure has.
Every day, the Sun glazes my skin and wakes me up with a gentle silence.
Not long after I rise, the viscous storm strikes me:
"YES!"
"NO!"
"BLACK!"
"WHITE!"
"NO LOVE!"
"ONLY FEAR!"
FROZEN. IN. TIME.
The rain has drenched me in defeat.
I didn't have the slightest chance of sharing a word with anyone.
I didn't say anything - I said nothing.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Suicide...
Poetry(#12 in Poetry- 3/5/17 |14 in Poetry- 2/28/17 |23 in Poetry- 11/18/16) Have you ever considered picking up a pen and writing to the one you fear most? Well, that's what I've done. When I write to my fears, It's oddly satisfying, because I know that...
