All is not lost though
The sun still shines bright
Reflects vibrantly the curls of her hair
The moonlit enters her window periodically
Touching softly the pages she left unturned
Lovers gaze still fills her body to the necessary warmth
Love has find comfort in the wounds unburned
An escaping moth stays still on the corner of her wall
Lost completely in the silence of the room
Her belongings still smell like her
Her heart still pumps blood
And mind makes the best of stories
Bringing comfort in the chaos of her demolished self
Her lip sings more loudly the songs of thankfulness
Her soul knows it is just a small bump
Meant to let her mend her shoes
And cure the bleeding heels torn like broken dreams
Tears absorbed in pillows still leaves scars
Giving her impulse to hide them in drawer
For there will be questions unanswerable waiting her way
Trading answers with her ego s fall
All is not lost though But what is lost is lost…
(My Own Sketch titled” Embracing our own broken self”)
Lovely and sensitive!
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