I think I feel too much.
My bones ache
when I remember.

And I think I think too much
when my bones ache.

I forget I am flesh
that needs you -
but not quite you.

Just a whisper on the wind
with feathers falling
that mount
into a mountain.

Too high to be true wings that
an Angel would shed
to reach me
as I fall and fall,
without one feather touched.

Call it the first years
when love was absent
when the black dog came
and he became my dark friend.

The black dog with a bone
never gave up, he chewed that bone.

A child with a black dog and bone?

Tell me a story that has no promise.
Or tell me my bones are not
owned by a black dog
and there is flesh that
remains

somewhere

Just not here.


.

Wow!!!!!

So Beautiful

Thank you. I thought it was a bit too raw for consumption....

Nice poem .

Hi

O.(h) so very intense, without even knowing from where this comes within you,
I felt every raw emotion. Bravo, yet again

Superb poem, Miss! So heart-touching!

A powerful expression. If the marrow core remains, I think there's still hope for weary bones.

Good words are worth Much and cost Little . But the Whole thing is That ...
Its Much Appreciated !

The poem is about childhood abuse my friend. Those who know will resonate...I think it needs to be talked about, perhaps not here though.
The black dog is a symbolic word for depression.

Love and strength to anyone who has been there. It calls your name and the memories are never forgotten, though we try xx ❤

Thank you. Sorry I give you chit about being here and married. You really are a sweetheart x

Hey gorgeous, thanks.
I challenge you to give me poem in return that touches me ❤

Thank you sweets xxx

Hai.