I asked her why she held on so

To things that she knew could hurt her.

 

She said It’s like a nettle.

Hold tight, you won’t feel the pain.

She said It’s like a rattler,

Hold tight, you won’t feel the fangs.

 

I asked her why she held on so

To things that she knew would exhaust her.

 

She said Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,

I’ll be tired till the day I die.

 

 

GRIPPED – Stacia Joy

Advertisements

Can you hear me, Father?

Can you hear me, Father?

 

Daddy’s gone, Mama’s home

Lying in the bed

Demons are in sister’s blood

Brother’s eyes are dead

Continue reading