I swallow my words, a slow-moving bitter taste.
Full of broken glass that burns my veins.
A storm raging inside, a fire that cannot be quenched.
Fuelled by anger, disappointment, loss,
a life lived too long.
The past doing what it does best,
haunting, stirring the mind to self-destruct.
Ghosts of those once loved smooth the sharp edges
of the hills and troughs dug by bitter memories.
It is better to have loved.
A life lived without is a hollow bubble.
The space inside too hard to handle.
So my friend if love is offered,
Take it, keep it safe.
Don’t live life in an empty bubble…
© Anita Dawes 2021
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