How I long to be small, cute, held.
How I fear to be small, cute, held.
Is there trust to be had somewhere?
Is there fear that is needed?
I did have trust once, twice, three times.
I trusted you enough to be small, you showed me that meant helpless.
I trusted you enough to be cute, you showed me that meant naive.
I trusted you enough to be held, you showed me that meant bound.
Three people, three wounds.
How I long for large ugly scars.
Scars only happen after the wounds close and the pain stops.
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
Sweet Nonsense
PuisiThis is a book of my poems. Some may seem light and sweet, some dark and depressing, and some like absolute nonsense . Yet, these are the embodiments of feelings swirling inside me. Feelings you may share and understand.
