progress

  • “six months”- a poem

    The day i sent these five books in,Five years of pain,Suddenly ceased.I was in a bubble,An air pocket,At the bottom of the ocean,Creating my own space,Demanding that the depths of my existence,Let me breathe,And so I did,Breathe.There i was,A sliver of silver, wiped clean of its tarnish,Still scratched,But exposed, in a new way.In these six…

    “six months”- a poem