I dyed my hair, I cut it short
In hopes that I would forget you
Plucked all hairs out of my body
And sang on top of my lungs
Sometimes I would wake at 3 am
Just because my brain forces me to think
What if I didn't matter to you at all?
What if you held my hand to fill a void in you and I held your hand to love you?
But the next time you see me, maybe on a train off to somewhere
It would feel right in my heart
Knowing that you & I are apart.
YOU ARE READING
कथा | rotten poems
PoetryMy helplessness has written itself in words , o woe. I surrunder to you all of me. Copyright @ Mehak COMPLETED // 2019
