Burying Truths

Sitting next to him
as he drove,
the streets looked gray.

I could burn my journal.
Burying the truths.
I would be running away.

A memory best kept to myself.

This is like dying every day.
I don't expect that
I will ever wake up.

Reviews

[Echoes of Eros]

So personal, painted in dark hues on the heart's canvas. What a sadness to have to hide within yourself. xo