Where is she,
the me I used to be?
Fading, shredding, wafting free
in ragged pieces, desperately
spinning, shrinking, hard to see.
Pretending, as things become less clear,
that nothing’s wrong,
I am still here.
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Beautiful piece.
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thank you so much, Laurhen.
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Wow amazing 👏😊 please read this poem https://bleedingthoughtsweb.com/2017/10/24/the-day-you-left/ I hope you will like it 😊
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Your poem is a sad and moving write.
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