This might be the end,
This is the end.
This might not be the end.
Is this the time to ask you,
If you can stay on a little longer,
If you can hold on to the crashing waves attacking me thoughts?
Would you say yes,
If I promise you,
That you won't drown?
Yet you stuck on,
Clinging onto me
Like a spider hanging from its web.
You hold on tighter,
Digging your nails,
In my skin.
We climb up higher,
Some people caught onto our legs,
Though we won't ever kick them away.
But they drift away,
Like the waves,
Once in my head.
But now you're the captain,
Of my sinking ship.
YOU ARE READING
Why Was It You?
PoetryA collection of thoughts, that mean a lot to me but not to you
