Soul’s fragile wings
Wrenched matter shapes us.
Under stars breath.
for a colour
I cover some wounds.
When speech sounds hollow
from these lips.
And dreams dissolve
in gentle nuance
One tries to brush
such moods aside.
As prayer ascends
toward the Moon.
The piece above is my first teenage poem, written at age 16.
No others survive from that year.
(Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?)
Comments are always VERY welcome!
Thank you for reading.
(PS: Am currently going down with an unknown virus.
Feeling feverish. Aching so much, even writing is painful.
Thought to keep blogging as a way of not giving in.
Being already unwell and isolated, my anxiety levels increase when new illness attacks.
I have enough food for a few days, but no support available, if things get bad.)
( anxiety / art / beauty / blog / blogging / depression / life / mental health / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )