My thoughts are
relayed unconsciously through
scrunched up papers,
pens that have run out of ink
and through unfinished poetry
that lies quiet between the old pages of my novels.
Each carrying soft sets of tales
engraved within,
secrets left untold and
dangerous lies that wreck havoc in my mind.
All but my own story forgotten sadly
much like old memories,
that were once special and meant something to me.
YOU ARE READING
Starry night skies (completed)
PoetryUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
