Joy, dreams, memories die with it.
Clouds mirror my state of being,
quietly sobbing with me
like a loyal companion to a grieving friend.
My stomach growls, hurting
in the process of devouring me
Starved for a handful of dirt
in your acres of affection.
Crumbs, a single drop, a second thought,
is that what I've come to believe I'm worth?
I was born today many years ago,
but today I bury hope,
my heart's wake.
art journaling lately
21 hours ago