Poem #355

I was filling in the cracks in the walls,
tried to build a steady foundation
out of leftover material and dried tears.
When the ground started to shake
I held up the ceiling with my bare hands

I fought so hard to preserve
Something meant to fall apart
I have bruises on my hands and knees
Lungs full of of dust
I couldn’t get out in time, I stumbled
It all came crashing down
A part of me died under the rubble.

Don’t forget that my first novel is available on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Also you can get my poetry books: Rehab and Identity crisis


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