Poems from juliebug41896
The evergreens sway in this residual wind.
I would like to think this is not the last of the cold,
That there is something left to shake...
This isn't about young economy grade love,
Or fires of melodramatic pain.
Its about realization, here right now,
That you were only ever...
The eyelid opens and the abrasive sharpens,
Your dizzysick mind unfurls under a heart,
The bareness and the lucidity catch up along
The...