Words

I used to see these letters,
As ink on sun-kissed sand
But now they are feathers,
Five fingers of a hand

I thought I'd already devoured,
These character-thin shades
Only to find I cowered,
Before ink-made blades

Your words have broken me,
They've left me weak and small
My whales in a paper sea
Were the very cause of my fall

Comments

Need to talk?

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