Push me to the brink
And watch me fall
with boastful joy.
A smile will play across my lips
As the ground reaches out
And begs for collision.
Not even then shall I curse your name.
With my final breath,
I'll say "too soon."
YOU ARE READING
Speaking to Lost Souls
PoetryA collection of thoughts and emotion. Forgive me. I have a poet's soul, but not a poet's pen.
