Autho Publication
mbAAp0L9lqPVz5GRAwlL62CKgNItsOin.jpg
Author's Image

Pre-order Price

.00

Includes

Author's ImagePaperback Copy

Author's ImageShipping

BUY

Poem from Chapter 9:

over

When your water empties itself in another river We no longer flow togther The course of my river no longer ends at your mouth I no longer choose to drain my land and erode my fertile soil in order to harvest your fruitless flowers I pool all my raindrops slowly and steadily I'm off to a fresh start I search for freshwater with my previously salty drops I tweak the course of my river and the land that I surround myself with I redefine my river's destination I no longer meander around toxic currents The ice that I have accumulated over the years is so thick and unforgiving that it refuses to melt the glaciers of my past is capable of eroding mountains I can no longer flow freely with the baggage from the past the speed of my flow reduces and my river is polluted with the debris of my thoughts I've fallen and hit rock bottom the softest rock I could ever hit I could have become a new river stream where I could submit myself to the ocean but I chose to become a waterfall instead “I cried a river but I built a bridge.” Afterall, my teardop is a humble part of 7 billion other watercycles.