Truth came hard like thunder, the sky opened her eyes, flush with rage, she whipped across the night, striking melodies of discord, a witness to betrayal, an immediate downpour of reason, she licks blood from the spear of doubt, her shout echoes into the distant memory of what was, what ever could be, lies dance in ballerina shoes into neverland, but truth comes hard like thunder. I open my gates to her fury, for she is my sister and cry together we did.
© Delia Ross. 2019
🙂 You have managed to look beautiful in a so-called, “Messy” state.
You are blessed with good looks!
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And here I worry about bags under my eyes, freckles on my lips, and the fact that I’ll be turning 41 in two days. Thank you kindly though. I literally have not one dude interested in me…
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