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...

#mindpoetry and mental health

◄ Two Thousand And Eight

Words ►


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