poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.
Cradle meMy sorrows washed into think blanketsUsed to cover up the cold in flesh,Hold me ,Like you would hold a new born child,Lay me in pink roses and milk,Conjure up the sacredness out of my belly,Stroke my hairAnd hold my back,As if I was a child,Buckled over weeping into your arms,Cover me in your leaves, […]