Inked Thoughts and Midnight Monologues
This sombre rain and the absence of you. Sacrilege and a Godless universe. How sleep visits slowly, like baby steps. Today is a paper plane, heading elsewhere. Each day caresses like a lover and then dies in my arms, once and for all. The battle that I’m waging to protect myself makes me the wounded warrior. Words that lie bare, like antiseptics in olive coloured refugee camps. How will they heal if they’re not applied? I’m dying to hear the symphonies of all these souls and yet, all I receive is a loudness unheard of. Deafening silence too. It’s the eyes I seek thereafter. To be friends with your shadow. The rain makes a sound without having a voice of her own, then why can’t we? Fall. That’s all I ask. Hit my senses like raindrops hit the asphalt. Touch my soul like the rain touches the dried up leaves…
View original post 78 more words
This: “To be friends with your shadow.” This is my favorite line I’ve read today. Thanks for sharing, Mr. Nicholas.
So glad you enjoyed it. She’s an incredibly gifted writer.