I bite my lip with hope of a kiss That may never arrive I believe in it Like a white Christmas Or three bowls of porridge It’s fleeting these days I haven’t been able to catch hold
Monthly Archives: November 2018
A Writer’s Wish
Numb to it all My world slipt away Was it mine This foreign body of water deserted and dripping of new substance Maybe divined maybe cursed Cure me of my ailments Feed me your wine but allow me a foot on the ground A toe? A finger? -Saschia
It’s all here
Listen to the wind and the piano key floorboards and the breaths of the sleeping Some are caught and the missed ones as silent as the answer It’s all here in the room with me -Saschia Johnson
Human
Going human was my best decision Letting me be something full of both Flaws and beauty Striving for better Still acknowledging my best efforts Growing growing From a tree to ash drifting far and wide Jayne.Press
Jayne.press 