M e r a k i

P o e t

A young soul
with a heart full of words,
She lays in the dark,
ink pouring out,
letters dancing on the paper,

She feels soo much,
the girl who wants to conquer the world,
the girl who dances and runs through the field,
the girl who smiles when she hears rain
hitting her window,
the girl who at night, under the moonlight
wishes things were different.

The one who with every step on the road,
prays someone could hold her hand.
The one whose nightmare is a reminder
of why the barriers built around
her heart, would protect her.

The one who's drowning in soo much
darkness—where the devil
hidden in the shadow,
his voice echoing with the wind.

"Oh little poet, even in our world
forever is temporary."

So she writes, words filling the
blank pages,
Sentences being the only thing
her eyes see.
Her pen following along,
her secrets being kept safely,
on the torn piece of paper.

Oh, a writer's words,
written across the raw skin
of the poet.

A/N: [Yes, her lazy ass wrote something] :')