She used to be held down
But is no longer.
There is something
Curious about disconnect
From what you thought
Was holding you to earth.
Shock accompanies the loss
Of gravity and it feels as
If you will never stop going up.
Though someday you must,
Someday you must learn to
Anchor yourself and not rely
On others to keep you on your feet.
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
My mind is a blender,
My thoughts whatever
Hapless ingredients
Are trapped inside.
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
My biggest mistake has been
Focusing on what others
Think about
The way I am living my life
Instead of making sure
That I am satisfied
In what I do.
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
Her world is a fragile, paper one.
It could blow away
In one gust of air.
It could disintegrate into ash
With the introduction of one lit match.
It is as unsteady as a house
Built from autumn leaves.
But despite all its flaws,
it is the only world she has.
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
sometimes it’s enough to be here
on this earth
breathing
thinking
stretching arms high to the sky
drinking it all in
sometimes that’s enough
and sometimes I find
that I want more
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
How can you start a journey
You know you must take,
When you don’t even know
Where you’re supposed to go?
© 2020 Leona Petrovic
Image Credit HERE
I am sitting and the birds won’t be quiet.
I am sitting and the sun won’t stop rising.
I am sitting and my thoughts won’t stop churning.
I am sitting and wondering, does it ever stop.
Even when I am six feet under, the sun will
just keep rising and birds will keep on trilling.
Some say the end is near and others call it far,
but I find that hard to believe. The earth will
always be here, it’s us I’m worried about.
Human skin is paper, burnable, able to char,
but it won’t be a comet that gets us, or the
fires of an angry god. We will get ourselves,
we’ve created enough weapons to manage
an ever-burning inferno, if ever they all flew free.
Image Credit HERE
I can smell the sweetness
on your lips, the sugar
melting on your tongue.
Too bad that honey
doesn’t come from within,
too bad it is all stolen,
sweetness that doesn’t belong
to you but to your victims.
Image Credit HERE
Born of a thousand suns,
Created by the light of
The moon glinting off the ocean.
Like a fireplace she can keep
You warm
Then turn around
And in a second
Burn your house
To the ground.
Image Credit HERE
The maps show roads
And winding rivers
And mountains
Tall as can be.
They show boundaries
And countries
And capitals.
But none of them
Ever show her the road to
The most important
Place of all.
Self-acceptance.
Image Credit HERE
inkgirlwords 