The rain touched more than my face the cold wet ground lurched into my socks sinking me
I felt better yesterday and the storms blew me away- to much struggle on my mind-
The history of weeds entangled me just fine- into my bones before even this earlier it goes.
Mothers wombs that wove my story not mine but borrowed and turned into money- the secrets you kept to keep you alive will now be turned to help u thrive- words are the way to weave the tail and before you heal it's all inside waiting to come out-
In secrets we shout-