Flowers crown her with thorns, keeping her mind entrapped in a garden of lies – guarding her mind.
RENEE STONEFlowers crown her with thorns, keeping her mind entrapped in a garden of lies – guarding her mind.
RENEE STONEThey hit like waves, the memories of those old summer days. Memories you’d have thought to erase, but they crash ashore without haste.
RENEE STONEThe thought of you having to try hurts because it feels like you should have known to let me go before you grabbed ahold.
RENEE STONEBody and mind aren’t separated. And so all these things I write, they are felt in the aches of my heart.
RENEE STONEI can’t take it all in or else I’ll grow cold when the heat already escapes my fingers and toes.
RENEE STONEMy body is a field site of muscle memory and weathered bones.
RENEE STONEThere is a warmth that fills the soul when the sun’s rays tend to your skin from up above.
RENEE STONEWe’re so distant, words can’t save us.
RENEE STONETo be understood and accepted could change so many lives.
RENEE STONEIt felt vulnerable to have people know my weaknesses, but there is so much strength from going back to the start and re-determining who you are.
RENEE STONEIt takes less for me to be impacted, for my state of being to worsen.
RENEE STONEI wonder why I’m so empathetic, why people perceive me to be so kind. I don’t want my heart to burn when there’s no one burning mine.
RENEE STONEWhen the silence fades and now sounds begin to bloom, I will grow to feel calm again. Healthily this time.
RENEE STONEI write poems of the past; they reveal the reasons we didn’t last.
RENEE STONEPeople struggle with words that spill and overwhelm you because they themselves are sinking.
RENEE STONEI lost touch with the world around me – gone unnoticed by that which surrounds me, but I must find the presence of that which grounds me if I am to once again grasp onto everything I lost touch with.
RENEE STONE