Jul 1
The wooden boards
of this old harbour
reeks of blood
stains,
seeping through
the gaps.
Splashing
into
a crystal
but yet
blurred mirror.
Who we were,
before the jump
now forgotten,
Drowning
into red seas.
of this old harbour
reeks of blood
stains,
seeping through
the gaps.
Splashing
into
a crystal
but yet
blurred mirror.
Who we were,
before the jump
now forgotten,
Drowning
into red seas.
I think many of us feel this way and writing about it helps us. Life is not easy, for sure. Suicide is never the answer. What doesn't **** you, does make you adapt better.
