Draining us,
Drowning in them.
Using up our strength
To express what we can't say.
They cease when we are truly ready,
Liberating us from our demons.
Giving us strength
To express what we have been
Waiting to say.
They alter our fixed eyes;
Young and old.
The pain stops and the tears
No longer fall, until we do
Once more.
They rejuvenate our souls.
And the next time they fall,
May not be of grief or sorrow,
But of joy, pride, or laughter.
Draining us,
Drowning in them,
Allowing us to rise again.
About the Creator
Danielle
freelance writer
The Fish Song
The room didn’t smell like disinfectants. Its fragrance seemed light and not overbearing. A soft mixture of lavender and mint permeated the space. No beeping machines or any tubes hooked up to four-year-old Kaleeka. Her cacao skin seemed to glow from the light over her head. The family, save for one and the doctors and nurses exited the room like a trail of saints showing their last vestiges of regard.
By Skyler Saundersa day ago in Fiction
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