A beautiful disaster
Attaching you to
Songs, places, things
To think of you
Every time I hear that song
To think of you
Every time I go to that place
To think of you
Every time I drive my car
We called them our things
But now they are just
My things
Oh what a beautiful disaster
To attach the memories of you
To things that are now
Only mine
-mw
YOU ARE READING
The therapy session
PoetryThe anxiety can't win against this paper and pen. An unscheduled therapy for me to write, and others to read. These words are raw, my thoughts are deep. When I can't sleep, I often write.
