As river's gaze flashed
fire beneath its azure ice,
our spring never came.
How does it work?
Wow. Poignant and painful.
More stories from Amanda Johnson and writers in Poets and other communities.
Underneath that proud posture, far below Atlassian shoulders and the easy-going armor of an air sign, a soft spirit convalesces, simultaneously willing its wounds to heal while grieving their loss.
By Amanda Johnson 4 years ago in Poets
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Dear Void, I cherish and despise that no matter what I do, it goes unnoticed. I write when inspiration finally strikes, though I fear it’s a one way relationship. Only you, Void, are on the other side.
By Danielle Eckhart5 days ago in Writers
Comments (1)
Wow. Poignant and painful.