Growing Old

will I lose myself     become an empty shell     shrivelled and dry     with nothing left of me a desiccated husk     a wisp floating on the wind this life, this vibrancy     fading away to dust sparkles fizzling out     like dud fireworks as this ache     takes all that I am my colours fading     bones growing     ever more weary…… Continue reading Growing Old

bringer

bringer of order to my chaos light to my darkness warmth to my chilled soul bustle to my dusty kitchen comfort to my empty arms purpose to my days and a change to my ways bringer bring it on