postcards

I awoke this morning to find a postcard taped to my Spirit. It was from my easy Joy that flew to distant places when my grief arrived.

Hello, it said and inquired on how I was coping. My furrowed brow answered silently as I continued to read on. My Joy babbled on about the sights of my subconscious and the vast container it occupied,

provoking my tears to race down my face as I thought about our times together. It ended with a note of love and sweet kisses that i could not feel, I had been infected with a virus of sadness that numbed my longing in cruel intervals. Every time i needed, it would fail me and leave me exposed to the raging sickness. Forced to move through the process within the pain, aided by a scarred heart and mind.

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About ingridfalconi

I'm a married mother of three and a published author.
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