Not likely

For the first time in months,I allow myself to feel the creeping hopelessness of my current state Anger and grief for myself while not being able to fully move Quicksand steps in life and dreams, unable to do what must be done to climb out of the well I’ve put myself in I’ve allowed myself…


She pretends she knows how to be in love again, knowing what the last time was like, an emptiness, thinking of what could’ve been, years wasted with hopes of renewed love, attempts, endless, new prospects, dimming with the fading sun. Emily C. Poésie © 2018 Photo Credit