The mourning comes
Swift like death
With eyes open
Mockingly sweet
So saccharine
A passive engagement
Painted in blue
Deceptively thin
Like a razor’s edge
Slick with blood
Awash in tears
That never end
This gentle rain
Tender as morning
Conscious as fear
Hoping for a release
That never comes.
Sam
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Soprano
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Exploring life, love, lifting, and (almost) literally everything else, frequently aided by laughter and libations
Just a small town girl who writes about Christian stuff.
Strategic freelance writer specializing in online content, articles, web copy, & SEO.
Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.
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