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Poetry

Cold Hands, Cold Heart

Day 7 Prompt: Cold

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Poetry

Ugly Stick

Day 26 – Write a poem about an object

Categories
Poetry

Wild Hands

My finger runs across my palm, searching for callouses.

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Poetry Uncategorized

Will the fog ever lift?

Will this fog ever lift? I ask without expecting a direct answer. I check your pulse with two fingers to the ground, hoping for a sign of your healing.  I quiet white noise with white light, silence the static of statistics to steal back a sliver of sanity. I feel your cry, though my hearing […]