You are enough
When your throat closes
And even breath is
A trapped spider
Running back and forth
From glass wall to glass wall.
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My destiny was not an island Nor girt-bound now I was trapped by grey horizons I am caged by yellow The grey of pavements beckons There is blood in their pulse The yellow of sun on sandstone Is not mine to love
Comments closedWork in Progress I didn’t know a baby could be a weapon And it took nearly 7 years to see what she represented When While idling on my phone I came across a mention Not of me (Though it could have been) Or so I felt Viscerally But wasn’t this…
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