I.
One day, I stepped into an anonymous sea
and my pores were pricked with the salt of tears;
my heart stopped and shock dragged me underneath,
and when I reemerged, I was covered with the blood
of generations of innocence lost,
and then my heart broke
as I traveled back, thinking
about the little girls
who grew up too soon.
©♠
Poet, short story writer, and aspiring novelist. This blog details my writing journey and everything in between: supporting other writers, doing a feature column and serving as editor-in-chief for All Authors Magazine Online.
A Queen's Ramblings 
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