poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
The need for her daughter,Is that of the love for the souls fight to remain in body, after being shot,Is that of a trees power to remain rooted to ground, when being hacked at,Soil moist, from being pulledbut the trunk remains adamant,stuck in groundLike removing glass from flesh,it will remain a few inches too far,Don’t […]