Prose Poetry




An ache requires endurance. Stamina. A mind-marathon that may or may not result in implosion. My internal landscape ached for a decade before my body finally tried to self-destruct.  But the darkness wasn’t dark enough for me, and the light was too bright.  Still, before they returned my restless spirit back to its aching body, they did so with the promise that relief too required endurance, the benefit of which was wings.