Aching Eyes

aching eyes
bleeding heart
trembling hands
a storm within
entangled hair
wind sweeping
pain in my ass
scarred skin
another wound
blues and bruises

sands of silence
tower of ivory
ebony spaces
starless skies
faded moon

shattered pieces
of self
hands that want
to grasp
every broken
word, stuttering
existence

my friend
what writer's block
are you talking?

poem by Ric S. BastasaReport problemRelated quotes
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