Waters edge, not just in mind,
wash away this thing of mine.
Tide, turn me black and blue.
Sink me under the waves,
wash me up on a shore,
a place I've never been before.
Fill my lungs,
than spit me back up.
Let me breath in air,
that I had forgotten.
Turn me 'round and 'round,
till it washes away,
what I need to forget,
the things that made me sick.
-
Author:
RefugeInRain (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2025 18:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments1
This poem sounds like what life does to one. A metaphorical description of the knocks of life.
Love the observation. Always appreciate your perspective Soren. Thanks for the read -
You are most welcome
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