I was born to
swallow my
words and
hide them
in the fissures
of my throbing
heart, just to
sneak out at
3.am when
everyone's
asleep and
spatter them
over the skies
for the moon to
drink.
until I met the
boy who taught
me how to speak
oceans, the boy
who despite
everything
still believed
that life was
beautiful,
and always
Thought that
my voice was
meant for greater
things than being
muffled by a
folded sheet of
paper that has
never tasted the
outside air,
and only breathed
the darkness of
my back pocket.
the boy who
made loving
him seem so
simple; so why
am I trapped in
the drunken hours
of solitude instead
of melting against
the warmth of his
lips?
why am I whispering
my secrets to the
stars while I should
be drowning in the
depths of his
eyes?
why am I once again
left alone with a
paper and a pen?
YOU ARE READING
Dried petals
Poetry"and I find myself tucking your smile in the space that lies between every letter .for babe , if I can't keep you by my side ,then I'll lock you in each poem these hands write down ."_Aya Highest rank #43 in poetry on 23/7/2017 .
