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Some days it's bad
—no words coming out
of my heart
and certainly nothing
from my mouth
Some days it's good
—with feelings pouring out
of my hands
and bleeding
into my work
Some days it's fine
—no magic happening
in the world around me
and certainly no miracles
find themselves fulfilled
Some days it's ordinary
—with life going along with
its rumbling glory
and continuing on
until the end of my story
YOU ARE READING
an adjournment of scars, an endearment of stitches
Poetry❝𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢�...
