it's where we wither
giving in to feelings that only bring
the rivers of dark emotion
creating valleys
tired aching
words slap
stitches of healing over chapped cheeks
it's where we grow
sunsets setting mountains on fire
bringing in the joy
of jesus
sending tranquility
in the stillness he gave
maybe I can't write,
because my love..
is being thrown into reality.
perhaps my lyrics are being carried
over the hills,
on the back of my black horse.
perhaps I am done writing,
& will now throw my words...
into a realistic story.
it is written.
now let me live it.
xo, ginger
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