January 8, 2016
Closing your eyes. It's such an easy thing to do. But, for some, it is terrible. You can't close your eyes or you see things. For me it's him in the hospital bed making the nurses laugh. Close them again. Now it is him in the casket with his face upward. I see his mustache still white with age. His eyes are closed. His skin is a wierd color, as if it isn't trying anymore. I feel the crushing bowling ball on my chest whispering that it isn't okay.
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kraene
I love to write poetry with emotion, writing the kind that actually moves you. I believe that there is no point for words if you don't feel anything when they are said.
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