In the darkness
Thick with nourishment
Of my pumping river
They feed
I feed
To make them thrive
Screams excruciating
In what they
Say
Pain
Pleasure
God
And
I
Withered and bountiful
My body
My milky breast
Depleted
Alone
Brain writhes
Pockets red
The only green
Are my crying eyes
The struggles
White Knight
Battles
Fruitless hopes
Damaged dreams
Lead to now
The clarity of my wishes
Shadows
Bleak with despair
No
To parenting
No
To nourishing
No
To giving my soul
To those who do not care.
Langue d’Amour
11 years ago
Posts
1 comment:
nourish the beauty within, feed only the soul that is your own. don't let the rough winds crush the tender petals of your divine flower.
you are the chickory my dear.
Namaste!
-huck
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