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Salt
It still stings under the water, why does this always happen to me? the self loathing
I’m always desperately trying to make it to the surface to grasp for air
But you’re holding my leg pulling me down back into the depths of despair where my tears created this ocean.
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Burn
You have forsaken me, left me in the ditches to rot and burn with the fire you left behind. Crying to be rescued, I pull myself up from the dirt but not without the 3rd degree burns.
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π£
Feel the freshness of the breath blowing on your face, the breath of this spring day, dancing around your fears. Youβre finding things troubling, she wonders if fact is fiction, is it all in her head.
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π³

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πΈππΈπ©·πΈ




