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*lower case intended
Citrus
my house stank of wasted air;
i could not breathe.
the eyelids drooped and my flowers withered,
a white diffuser waits for me.
fighting the virus that consumed me,
my cold, shaking hands added few drops of citrus oil to the 30ml of water.
after half an hour, sweet mist floods into the air.
i feel alive.
with new oxygen in my lungs,
I knew all I need is to make an effort to invest happiness into my life,
it will always return.
YOU ARE READING
EXTRACTION ✓
PoetryPOETRY 'such sadness; a creative mind that cannot be expressed only through those crooked smiles that left me confessed' A poetry book that speaks wonders of love, life and tragedies. All Rights Reserved by Rachel W.
