Maybe, these days
we are okay.
maybe, we are talking
about things
that makes us in love
and maybe, we are too happy–
like sparks bursting
Maybe, these days
we're not.
maybe, our beds another ocean
and my ship's a conversation,
you could send waves
that could either toss or sink me;
and maybe, we are too worried–
like sparks fading.
Maybe, these days
we can't.
maybe, you can't stand the madness
and all I can do is to see you break;
and you could resort in breaking me,
and all I can do is to let the hurting hits;
and maybe, we are hurting–
like sparks dying.
YOU ARE READING
blue valentine
PoetryThis is for the love I have found in between clouds of smoke, behind bathroom doors, and every waking at midnight hour - blue valentine. (2023)
