“The days of feeling are past”
The words she tells herself as she chokes back a cry by swallowing all of her daily bread and washing down with her tears
The freedom she craved to feel was here at last,
But the freedom keeps pulling at her lashes and hair,
Pulling until the emptiness occupies her chest
It keeps pulling nevertheless
Even as she feels the eruption of a Cry,
She holds on and begs for will power to carry on till tomorrow,
When she can make more bread, blow it all on choking back the cry,
But the tears continue to brew
She holds her breath, turns blue,
A few more shades she’d turn, she will make sure she holds back the tears
It is Tea for Tomorrow.
I am a writer. On my bright days, I am a rainbow, a little story to tell behind all my colour. On my dark days, I am black and white but with a touch of blue. The blue adds so much beauty to my art. It makes me weird, but sometimes Weird is Beautiful.
3 Comments
“it is tea for tomorrow, tea for her daily bread” 😊😊 I couldn’t just resist 🙈 I don’t think I’ll be able to see bread or hear the ‘Lord’s prayer’ in the same way anymore *lol. I look forward to seeing more work from you, especially those with tints and shades of blue 🙌
Gigi, this issa fire. pun intended
This is a nice one