Words from my fingertips seem to come entirely easier than those that come from my mouth. This is my journey to embracing that fact.
It is a slow and painful death to be brought back to lifeWaiting anxiously and patiently while staring into the skyTo be poured into with acid I know would corrodeTo be given a breath of life without inhaling on my own
I am the sun that falls and rises
I am the wave that ceases and crashes
I get burned just to heal over and over
But once I am burned she cannot return
A setting sun settles behind An antsy Sparrow on a line She squeaks and squawks, and wails and gawks Though she never minds the time
Awaken, my dear soul I know thy strength is failing As darkness settles in it’s tempting To lay still forevermore.