Poetry (words)


Every word feels like a breach sometimes, like places I’m not supposed to be. Yet all of these places I know. Like a map in my heart that’s never been drawn. I have delicate spaces to describe so eloquently…so why do I not? Why do I stop? Fear or reprisal? I’m so well equipped to just let them go. This is not a torrent of destruction this is my ebb, my flow. This is how tenderness feels.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s