There's ash in the air, I'm breathing in tainted air Surrounded, it seeps into my bloodstream I don't know how it corrupted my clean, clean air
By Isarah Etienne6 years ago in Poets
It seems as though the night was made for me. The world is still As if holding its breath. It is quiet. It is peaceful.
"It's fine." I say, trying to smile through the pain. Flowers beginning to bloom, instead of wane Roots taking hold, pushing into my lungs
I watched as my soul spewed into my hands I tried to hold it To put it back But it slipped through my fingers The inky blackness