poetry and mental health (Remove filter)
The Light Box
Filament burns,
fingers touching static glass.
Drunk with self-depreciating guilt
as eye's tap dance
in unison to a scripted feeling.
Ink tracing those familiar lines
cliched by experience.
this time with a heavier hand...
forged through fear,
now's the time to be brave...
Saturday 25th January 2020 7:48 pm
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