Skip to content

Category: Poetry & ramblings

Winter

When the threat of fire looms eternal and the earth is scorched and parched and bare, the feeling of cold is almost a rebellion. An exhilaration, a rush upon slipping naked into the air, the icy sea. When you’ve been burnt so many times by the flames, the cold feels like home.

I’m not

pain is the only way I feel these days
bruises on my skin color purple and yellow
remind me of you
so many years numbing the pain
now I’m numb to the caress of any who cares
I need to be hurt to feel like there’s someone there
love is a 4 letter word and I run from it
they think I’m just pretending
I’m not
I just want the pain without having to give anything back