
Running water,
you fill me.
Filled up sudsy,
no cup, dip me.
What a rush, anxiety,
calm the storm, all sobriety.
Drip like rain, cleans my pain,
feel the motion deep, no ocean,
just me soul fishing, drowning in
my hopes and wishing.
Save me like a blessing,
Calm me before testing.
Clearwater, made dirty.
Clearwater, not bubbling,
the dirt which I’ve grown from,
running water all done.
soaked, relaxed, and washed,
I have become.
About the Creator
T. E. Door
I’m a raw, introspective writer blending storytelling, poetry, and persuasion to capture love, pain, resilience, and justice. My words are lyrical yet powerful, to provoke thought, spark change, and leave a lasting impact.



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