I have to be strict Or else they’ll come through my door I have to say goodbye Or else they’ll … More
Tag: spilled poetry
GOLDEN HANDS
And then she fellThat familiar fallSuddenBut expected Her face stained with tearsHer heart heavyHer throat swollenHer small frame crumbled onto … More
Snow Globe
I’m looking into a snow globe I see myself inside I look so fragile there The glass makes everything magnified … More
Essena O'Neill Archive 