and the minute
the door closed
shut behind you,
I knew that the
cracks your love
has left me,
weren't something
I could fill up with
words.
for after all, our
story wasn't
written on a
book, but rather
on every wall
that our screams
shook.
so amidst the
mess our hands
created, I sit
down and trace
the contours of
my lips,
pretending my
fingers are yours,
and for a brief
moment it worked,
until I opened my
eyes to see the
broken promises
we tried so
hard to keep,
curling around
my wrists like
silver handcuffs
chaining me
down, stopping
me from holding
the people who we
used to be.
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 .
