Like cold dirt her body craved the sun,
She yearned for its warm presence at dawn,
Even a slight touch from a mindless shine...
She craved attention.
When her wind blew kisses
All that was said is goodbye.
When her wind blew bridges,
They begged by her side.
When her fire ignited
The urges were blinded
Her flames extinguished,
She craves some tension.
When her rain poured
It was not cause she cried,
But to open up her skies
and retry.
When her moon shows
It’s nothing but a glow
Because as her darkness grows
Her energy continues to flow.
About the Creator
Jacinda Almonte
Writing Freely..
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic4 days ago in Fiction
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