My fingers have always lingered against the pages of books.
My hands have always curled around pens and pencils.
My mind has always pressed on feelings and emotions that my heart yearns to say.
My heart has always latched onto the sweet words of poems,
because such art forms express every word that I am unable to utter
and every emotion I am unable to express.
And because others,
are much more skilled in putting their feelings into words,
than I am or ever will be
and maybe that's why their work calls out to my struggling heart
and wordless mouth.
YOU ARE READING
Starry night skies (completed)
PoetryUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
