Lingering in my lust, For what I can no longer touch. Breathing fire, To taste the Sweetness. Dessert before dinner Leaves nothing Forward, After it’s expired. To begin again, One foot heads In a direction While the other tarries In the hunger I’ve built up For you.
I am torn, Ripped Right down the middle. Jagged Between my breasts. There’s a left, And a right. But what is left in-between? A peace, in me. Right there, Left behind.
Disturbed. A lifetime used To wonder, But never reach out. ~~~ Time is dirty, Muddy prints left. Tracking down Nostalgia lane. ~~~ Doors opened, That should have stayed closed. Latched and locked, But picked with curiosity. ~~~ Trouble spilling on the floor, Swept clean. Specks of dust remain, Undisturbed. ~~~ It is present, But invisible. … Continue reading The Passerby – July 31, 2019
Filling up my puddle, Splish, splash. Pity party for one, please.
Trauma isn't that moment, Trauma is strung out. A flavor that lingers, In the back of your throat Your whole life.
Shaking~rumbling~ Blow, blow, blow! Feel it, grab it Ride on!
The hardest thing to do Is smile through All the pain carried Deep inside of you.