The aggressive wind from my fan
blazing through the width of these walls
breathing, feeling, and inhaling once again
oxygen filling up my lungs
as this paper is being touched by my pen
I’ve lusted, I’ve loved, I’ve hated, and I’ve sinned
Tomorrow is never promised, but tonight I can forgive
Selfish and Selfless
How can I acquit
the emotion bestowed upon my eyelid
Cold sweats, warm face, runny nose, and a numb fingertip
Liquified hope expelling from my lip
the bittersweet taste of being human
as restless as the might from within
crucifying the urgency to scream
drowning in a bed full of wishful things
as odd as it may seems
my soul feel
every beat my heart may weep
every secret I may keep
even the ones I keep from me
yes, when I say my soul feel
it feels
the strong will of
the severity of defeat
allowing myself to sink
in the lack of sanity
About the Creator
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More stories from Andrea Rountree and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNA7 days ago in Fiction
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