poetry
-
I used to live in this house, its windows shattered, paint chipped, aged wallpaper bearing witness to years of arguments and tears. Doors slammed shut, wood pieces covering the panels, Falling apart like dried petals of a wilted rose on the counter. Within this house, memories intertwined with heartache over the years, I stood outside,…
-
Sometimes I thinkeverybody learned how to liveexcept me. Like there was a class in schoolwhere they handed out instructionson how to answer texts,pay bills on time,keep friendships alive,fold laundry before it becomes furniture,and not cry in grocery store parking lots.And somehow I was absent that day. Some days I feel too much.The light is too…
The Ink Chapel 