and the orange dots of heat that took over my sight
as I stared up into the sky, too close to the sun.
My mother’s voice was echoing my name off of the trees
and the rocks of the stream were a little off balance
from the children’s curious hearts and mischievous hands.
I can still remember the pain that spilled out of my eyes
and the frantic search for blood that I swore
was dripping from my chest.
I was sitting on the edge of the brook
that felt like the edge of the world
holding my face in my hands as I sobbed
for or the first time.
Little insects were hopping on the water’s surface
and the wind blew just slightly so the hairs of my arm
stood straight up. I remember opening my eyes as my head was hanging
watching my tears drop into the water
making ripples of pain that no one would ever see.
S.W. has been writing since she could hold a pen. She spends her time cheersing to sunsets and wandering down unknown streets in search of all the magic and mystery life has to offer. You can find her newest self-published poetry book called, “The White Pages: Words to fill the void,” on Amazon Kindle and you can also find her on Instagram hosting The Poetry Café every Sunday.
Instagram: @wordsbysw
wordsbysw.com
wordsbysw@gmail.com
