Poetry

The Journal: a poem

Black lines
On white space
Feel the rhythm
Of ink on a page

Write the time
Today’s date
‘It’s been a while’
I’ve so much to say

Black lines
Like window bars
Hear the pain
Better than ears

Know the gush
Of drops undone
Salty, warm
Better than anyone


I began writing this back in September, during a time of painful, self-inflicted stress. I can only thank God’s goodness for parents.

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