To the Outlands
…and I retreat again to the outlands
Always scrambling to find my way back inside
She placed a black rose at my doorstep
With a note attached that read:
To be laid at the stone of our story,
A grave yet to be filled
To the outlands – to the wastelands
Compacted clairvoyance of futures
Made real by the paths I’ve already wandered
Peace and Love
Mikey
I remember. The poet stirs. It must inside of you too. I feel like I once wrote beautiful things and I’ve stifled it with day-to-day. I long to find it again, love soars in my heart. I hope it does in yours, too. x
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