Curled up in bed from yesterday’s disaster
The early morning, an uninvited guest.
Swollen eye lids and a broken heart,
Never budging to heal any sooner.
Climate out the window, paying no mercy,
What’s more aching is when you cannot afford to cry.
A happy place of poems, books, and rambles 
Crying is freedom. When you can’t cry you’re prisonner of something bigger.
So true! Thanks for your caring words 🙂