I'm saving my breath
exhausted from
whispering against the gale
told off, medicated, diagnosed
and dismissed
my thoughts are still free
my eyes still see what they see
but my words
have fallen silent
I can't save anything
I can't convince anyone
someday
you may see what I do
differently
YOU ARE READING
Syntax for Grief
Poetry{Poetry} We're keepers of each other's stories; you make me real.
