Bright colors above
Are now found below
Hues of red, orange, and yellow
Overlay the grey ground
A smell of rain sneaks in
Gentle cold winds move
Slow and steady around me
Small patterings of water dropping
Is like a light whisper barely noticeable
In an hour it is replaced
With an audible wall like the sky is falling
The falls surround the my home
Briefly there is a break
And breeze settles the arctic air down
Quietness spreads all around
As tiny little particles fall
They glisten off of carlights
Just a little thicker than rain
Washing the world to white
About the Creator
Lisa Pulliam
I love making fun of my emotions, feelings, and thoughts in short form writing such as songs and illustrations. I would like to write longer and more explorative pieces for others to read.
Keep reading
More stories from Lisa Pulliam and writers in Poets and other communities.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts4 days ago in Longevity
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.