For so long now,
you sleep in your ribs.
Tired is your normal.
Pain is your sober.
Alone is your safe,
and here comes the truth
dressed in affection
and sweet concern
that makes you dizzy,
makes you question
how true has been your truth.
Mind in a maze.
Heart in refusal.
All along,
you lived in a grave,
peaceful but static.
If I leave, what would that guarantee?
—rib caged
YOU ARE READING
Pen and Paper: Poetry & Prose (2020)
PoetryWords are bullets. Readers are targets. Come all, the loud and the silent! Dive into this merriment. Hi there! This is my collection of poetry & prose divided into three parts: When she hurts When she heals ...
