I am so tired.
I just want to lay here and wither
to become one again with, to disappear
back into the familiar hearth.
She is my home.
The cool clay may crush
me, and I will disintegrate. But,
at least my petals will not lure false suitors
who pick, discard, admire, and murder
fields of flowers.
At least the soil
will be a pact firm, as if a love
tucked me into sleep, and I can rest knowing
this forever embrace really won’t
ever leave me.
About the Creator
Sara Wynn
Poetry is my language, and Earth is my playground.
Why Just Write Is The Best Advice You Don’t Listen To
Before the last 6 months, I hadn’t written anything that wasn’t for my job or university for a number of years. I wanted to write more, I used to write all the time just for fun. I used to write poems and short stories that were just for me. I used to show them to certain members of my family but it was the process of writing them that I really enjoyed.
By Michael Naylor7 days ago in Motivation
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