see what you see. i refuse to live in your reality. Cold metal in my palm I take aim and hit the mark create
Tag: Poetry
When I Stood Still
I stood in the clearing and he looked o’er the edge He said, “Have you food?” (just in my head) I did not, my
Delicate
In the moment when the light rises, beauty is opening, ready for revealing. Delicate, not frail, she holds the nighttime kiss of dew and
let the waters decide
and she still sits and wonders what happened to the days of hope and wonders at the rusty bolts and holes… abandoned. how had
The Truce
It was a truce between us …an understanding. one more step and he’d fly away and I’d be left with just the image of
Drop
Just a drop that fell and mingled with assistance made a roaring sea and threatened all I am and was ever meant to be.
