These veins,
they bleed stories of survival.
My wounds do not weep;
they harden.
I will not tear open the scars
that prove I have healed.
I will collect them,
for they are my stories to tell.
They keep my heart soft
and let my soul triumph.
The great escape from reality. I still come for the humor and humanity. I still smile when I see photos of nature and animals. Giggle at pet...
No comments:
Post a Comment