#73 of 365 – “scraps and ashes”

“scraps and ashes”


I cried for hours

the other day,

stripped bare

by a caustic gale


insides burning,

having fallen

from behind

my stubborn veil


leaving nothing

but scraps

and ashes of resistance

on the ground


an aching silence

pressing in on me

by a heavy absence

of sound


and a tired

reaching for anything,


and profound


About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, jewelry maker, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Despair, Poetry, Recovery and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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