I thought that after
I had forgiven myself
I would fill with love,
light or compassion
but I didn’t, I filled
with emptiness,
and all I saw was a hand
smoothing a blank
sheet of paper on which
I could write anew.
I thought that after
I had forgiven myself
I would fill with love,
light or compassion
but I didn’t, I filled
with emptiness,
and all I saw was a hand
smoothing a blank
sheet of paper on which
I could write anew.
