Beneath my finger tips life is getting easier to swallow, when the sun will be above the ground below and the shadows on the walls, it’s getting easier to breathe.
I can start to see worry and threats explode and burn away. The memories of water past is likely to fade. Give me the sun. For my mind has been hostage for far to long. As the shadows need the sun. I need to breath again.
Shannon Woodward 2020
