What I don’t like is that my best writing comes when I’m at my lowest in thought & feeling…enjoy! The photo is of me but I did not draw it, I had some assistance from an app.
I’m lost, not found
No one can encounter this wound I’ve bound,
The many reasons why I haven’t come into focus,
For many seasons I’ve just lost purpose.
I’m hurt, no feeling
Can’t imagine life that has no reasoning,
I’m stuck in a dark room with no escape,
I see nothing but heartache and distress.
I can breathe, I’ve discovered 2 beautiful fuchsia that shine in that far tiny corner,
There beauty provides precise focus,
What I must do now is regain existence and surface.