A somber scream pushes across the damp grass, reflected in the pale night resembling a child contemplating everything under the moon.
After years form they see that somber scream bounce back across the grass, dried up from the feet of many travelers who do the same.
When you create an end to the breaking point….
Everything that’s broken will eventually become healed in time.
I flashed childhood off the silhouettes in the bedroom my mother let me sleep in.
Hanging sideways off edge. Sharing space with a toddler and pregnant wife.
I cried tears inside, but grit my teeth to prevent them from pouring out into oceans from pint up bitterness.
I almost hated me, tearing to the last fabric of self confidence until nothing.
Thin air carrying every mistake past the moonlight.
Note: This was written on the spot with little to know proofreading. I honestly just had to allow these emotions to pour out of me. I hope at least one person will be inspired.
Freedom can not be stolen. Intangible fragrances scattered in multiple places, who can grasp a full concept a mortal understanding?
At the tip of insanity, somebody pray for me.
Trust in self faith in
The universe, hang on stars
Until skies collapsed
Everyone has been lost, wondering aimlessly through forgotten fields.
Stepping on brokenness. We just gotta trust God because we can’t trust ourselves.
Like birds, my hands flew from 7th story
Windows welcoming ills of city air.
Watching the pavement blend with the faces of pedestrians.
Again, tomorrow I’ll open windows
To stumble through a different scent,same scenery.
Phone rings. Mother’s voice slides
The conscience from its compartment.
Hands return blistered with blood same color as my skin.