i sew, he dreams
I sew and he sleeps heavily,
waking up for a moment to laugh
and then falls back into a heavy slumber.
With each stitch I sew my mouth shut,
we do not speak of trauma in this house.
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
emiilytaayla’s Poems (5)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| i sew, he dreams | 0 | 10/20/2019 |
| a dance of tongues | 2 | 10/20/2019 |
| revision | 1 | 10/20/2019 |
| the summer | 0 | 10/20/2019 |
| the bathroom | 0 | 10/20/2019 |
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