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Barbara Wolfsong
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what spaces do we have

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what spaces do we have

what spaces do we have we hold with a grip of death; one moment we have hope and then we lose . ..  it slips through our fingers like sands of time . . . winged and free yet wind whipped we are wounded abraded by the erosion of loss and hurt and yet the passage of time dulls the pain  . . . we brush ourselves off . .   and quickly forget . ..  clutching at hope which like tiny fragile bubbles are so shiny and so compellingly beautiful You grab that tenuous sprite .. .. Love . .. and watch as Love dances away . . . leaving you more lonely than you ever were before

what spaces do we have

w

what spaces do we have

what spaces do we have we hold with a grip of death; one moment we have hope and then we lose . ..  it slips through our fingers like sands of time . . . winged and free yet wind whipped we are wounded abraded by the erosion of loss and hurt and yet the passage of time dulls the pain  . . . we brush ourselves off . .   and quickly forget . ..  clutching at hope which like tiny fragile bubbles are so shiny and so compellingly beautiful You grab that tenuous sprite .. .. Love . .. and watch as Love dances away . . . leaving you more lonely than you ever were before

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Artist // Literature
  • July 21
  • United States
  • Deviant for 9 years
  • They / Them
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