We are teardrops and wishes,
a trail of whispers
trapped in glass jars
We call ourselves
unbreakable,
but there are cracks
in our fragile hearts,
and those memories
the ones we pretend
don’t exist,
are simply waiting
for resurrection
They live in
those empty spaces,
longing for moments
when the sky is black,
mist and moonlight,
waiting to be spilled
so they can rise
with the night
Breath of Words 4/16/17
photo by Omerika
Well you had to know I would love this as ‘jars’ are my favorite metaphor and medium and you have done this one justice and then some! Well done, terrific and beautiful poetry
Aww, thank you so much! I’m honored and humbled by your kind words. ♥️
You are a gorgeous writer xxx