Poetry – weary

I grow weary

of the silence voices

that echo

inside my mind.

They judge me

mock my ideas

cliticize my actions

devalue my worth.

Everything I do

comes genuinely

from the heart

& I value that

about myself.

So, I’m just going to

keep doing

what I do best…

being me.

J. Belle

Image by Priscilla Du Preez

Poetry – sip

Shadow caresses

the edge of sorrow

Light trickles down

into the bowl of hope

Sip from the cup of life

really taste it

the sweet

and the bitter

filling your belly

with resilience.

J. Belle

Image by Ian Keefe

Poetry – gentle touch

her thumb

slowly sweeps

across his brow

a tear wells

in the corners

of their eye

her fingers curl

around his ear

her thumb slides

down his jaw

and neck.

bristles course

against the softness

of her touch.

sigh

a moment…

J. Belle

Image by Mark Pan4ratte

Website Built with WordPress.com.

Up ↑