Fifteenth of October
This is a very personal journal entry of mine. It has haunted me since. This experience has made a corner of my mind it's home. I have never told my best friend of my dream, as I don't want to come off as attention seeking. I've never took pride in it. However, I have always been aware of a "sixth sense". It does not always work the way I want. Sometimes, I can feel the sorrow and worry of another, and I know the person these feelings belong to. Other times it is a lingering feeling of dread or depression for a couple of hours, with no insight as to who is hurt. With that being said, I hope this is enjoyed by those with creative minds. And as a reminder that when you feel strongly that someone is in pain or carrying a form of dread, call them. Do not push it away.
Comments (3)
Solid into liquid ice melts. Love the sound that ice makes in the glass. Good job.
Gotta agree with Harper. Ice is such a scary word now. Loved your poem!
Like everyone else in the US, I now bristle when I see the word “ice.” I am so thankful that this is the kind I like, in the place I like it—a glass.💖