I promised not to write sad letters.
I stop blue minds, but they scratch sheets.
The words with tears seep into paper,
leaving black tracks of inky strips.
Remembrance keeps: a silver bracelet
with a small heart from sparkling beads,
sad verses, dreams, the scars’ deep traces
on a cracked soul, empty swings…
Pain gave addiction to deep silence
and sleepless nights counted in stars.
It made a hermit. Life is private.
A big steel lock sealed the faint heart.
A light-blue butterfly on silver
is the reminding of the changes.
I will fly higher, fighting inner
ingrained resentments at my fate.
by Thea Ariss
09:21-13:40
29.08.2024
One more sad letter. Transformation
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124082905222
Свидетельство о публикации №124082905222
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