Straws I am desperate, grasping at straws. Feverishly I reach, clawing into the acrid air attempting to salvage anything I can. Yet I come back empty. My hands holding hard onto absolutely nothing. November 30, 2023 by Ash Ochoa Poetry Categories: My PoetryTags: Desperate, life, Me, Memories, Poetry, Relationships 3 Comments
AO Poetry 