Words lash out like a torrent onto the person's ears.
They cut through the glass that I so dedicatedly built my house with.
Once spoken they stubbornly refuse to return and leave a permanent imprint on this page.
The sound is too loud for me to block off.
The memory is too painful to erase.
Where should I store them?
I seem to be running out of space.
YOU ARE READING
Deliriously Yours
PoetryThis is a collection of poems that are concise and honest in their approach. They don't preach, they simply are. Within he poems there is a thread of naivety that tugs at you, whilst at the same time there is a sense of worldliness and depth that ba...
