poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
It was only yesterday That your White Feather fell from the sky, Like a cloud, the Rain fell, the Sun came out, A Rainbow emerged. That day, You Father, were taken, That day my world collapsed, You left me a Feather
My truth lies within the crevasses between my fingersReaching slowly into every root of every strand of hairOf every freckle that once used to dot my faceTruth lies within my throatCurdling at the sight of any liesFinds itself trickling its way up to the mouthLike frothing, it seems I have been choked yet again by […]