Lift your hands to this oncoming wind. Let it pass through these finger tips and over your soul. Leave me with arms stretched and eyes wide open, leave me with that dry taste in my mouth from my hesitance. Don't let go of this tide, let it pierce my being and wash away the shell that used to be, let it flake off into this sea of dependency and run away like the night disappears into the day. Leave me standing here, fidgeting over what might be, not the reckoning of what we used to know. Let those ghost go, scream out the past to make breath for our future and hold me tightly in it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
About Me
- J.L. Copeland
- I have been writing for years, but never knew that I was a writer. The expression itself was and has always been such a personal adventure that it never crossed my mind to allow others to partake in my work. I still don't call myself a writer or a poet, those titles go to the published or established, but I hope to obtain such entitlement in the very near future. But over all, I hope that I can spark some sort of discussion. Whether it's about my work and the emotions or thoughts that it has provoked, or even just about how pitful and weak my writing just might be. Either way, it is discussion and forcing some kind of thought! I hope you all enjoy! Feel free to email me at jlcope77@yahoo.com for any reason. Enjoy.
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