If we were what we loved the most, we'd be stories of pretty words.
If our hearts were what we dreamt of, they'd be strings of words.
If we'd bleed what hurts us the most, what'd drip would be words.
If we'd weep what pains us the most, what we'd shed would be words.
Alas, it is not words that fall when we bleed or sob.
If they did, we would not even have a heart that'd throb.
-TheHopeOfDusk
YOU ARE READING
Inked Musings
PoetryA collection of poems I've written over the years. I hope they reach another soul and give them the comfort they've needed for a long time :)
