Maybe it'll all make sense when we're older
Maybe the sun light on our faces won't feel so harsh
And waking up early is just routine
The drive to the grocery store won't feel the world is ending
Maybe take random walks just to feel fresh air in our lungs again
Sit on the porch and watch the people, the animals, nature itself
And maybe one night when we're laying in bed
Something will just click
And everything and everyone
Won't seem like one big question
YOU ARE READING
With Shaking Hands
PoetryWith shaking hands is a collection of poetry I've created over the span of three years, here you'll find poems about, love, loss, growth, recovery. May you find a safe space here, may you find peace here.
