She’s dying not wanton for living in nebulant world
caught up in a shimmer
She is my cognitive dissonance a prisoner or
the one who keeps me safe form all harm
She takes me to a blissful cave hung with roses
sunshine smiles challenge my retreat
If her love snuffs out
Flames of regret will burn until cinders remain
didn’t show her the true love she deserved when she was even ill
Ignorant to what is in plain sight
Words tempted to expel her ignatius existence.
Posted on 2020-09-26, in POETRY-FREESTYLE/IN YER FACE/EXPERIMENTAL and tagged Creativity, Depression, Emotions, Fears, guilt, In Yer Face poetry, Life, motherhood, poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.