Press against resistance
deliver from moments Left on the floor
scattered across the hall
I run.
Seething at Darkness creeping
into photograph ghosts left hanging
I run.
run…
Where can I go
Where the images cannot touch memory
and memory not ravage tender heart bleeding?
and so I run
down halls with walls hung with tears.
Filed under: 2016, Poeticly Speaking Tagged: darkness, escape, fear, grief, memory, sadness
This post first appeared on Saying It Anyway | … With Intent., please read the originial post: here
