Wading

She carries three rocks in her pocket

One is the peble that lead her to a mountain

One is the lump that formed in her throat

One is the boulder of silence that sat still in your mouth

These rocks are heavy

and she carries them in her pocket

so that when she finally wades deep enough into the water

you wont have the strength to pull her back again

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741