The stench of your skin still lingers here A deep sweet of pure delusion Your smirk pasted on my heart Too much of myself gone
By Alison Brookeabout a year ago in Poets
When shaded clouds shroud the land in darkness, the wolves come prowling for their prey. Set to tear the flock asunder, searching diligently for the stray.
By Alison Brooke2 years ago in Poets
Always reaching out for something more, But somehow only ever hitting the floor. Chasing after the next greatest high, Daring to dream; dying to try.
I couldn't believe it was you there with me held close in your arms where I felt I belong as we stood together beneath a budding spring tree
I think it’s okay…. I think it’s okay that your chronic empathic anxiety fear of rejection struggle to accept imperfection
