you were an island
and I was a boat, lost at sea
—drowning
I washed up on your shore
a stranger without a home
—shipwrecked
counting the days til freedom
now I'm just a castaway
—trapped
you're the campfire to my storm
when the grey sky pours out hate
—redemption
you're the raging wind on a cliff
when I stand on the edge
—salvation
you're the helicopter on the horizon
flying to my hideaway
—rescue
–leonardo r.
YOU ARE READING
Insomniac | ✓
Poetry[ THE FICTION AWARDS 2018 WINNER FOR BEST POETRY BOOK ] ❝He spent his life chasing butterflies, never noticing how he trampled on the flowers.❞
