Every time I taste good words
I use them twice
Shapeless words fail me
See the sea salt grappling with smooth rocks
Taught ropes
Hold my boat
Beating at the cliff side
If they snap
I’ll sail south
And hope the cold air wakes me
Sand me back and hope there’s hardwood underneath
I fear I’m chipboard
I’m storage
Hoarding hopes and dreams
Hiding adventures
Weather me
And hope for better days
soon you’ll see sunshine
About the Creator
Anastasia Murphy
I am terrible at writing bios and I like writing poems.
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