So simple, at first light
The idea of you-
But as the day grows
So do my twisted/tangled thoughts
A relentless, creeping vine, blooming with petals of uncertainty
Decorated with thorns of doubt
You wrap yourself around me so sweetly
And when the self-inflicted ache begins to wither
I'll be out in search of water
SP
1 comment:
the more that I read your poetry, the more I identify with it and you. I love you.
Mom xoxoxo
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