Dear diary,
For I know your pages very much
The words, even the bitter ones
Urge me to render—forever young.
Sometimes when there's just no tissue paper around
Your pages are the ones who drenches the sorrows down
It takes me back, to where it all started
The year-dried ink to the grungy entries.
Dear diary, the dearest of all!
Can you hold up my jewels like a reservoir?
Of course you can! If I possess you gently...
Beyond my cheeks; for sometimes it's red and swelling.
Like a hush of a not perceptible tone
Could be a lullaby; a gentle song
To where it wasn't blank; I see and smile
Glimpsing it; like a piece of a mile high.
Dear diary,
Can you keep everything— as in EVERYTHING?
To envelope these leaking thoughts?
Of course! You're always mine as time goes on...
YOU ARE READING
Telling My Own Thoughts; Short Poems ✔️
PoetryBook 2 of the "Short Poems" series. - - - "Applaud like there's no tomorrow; live like there's no such thing as sorrow." - - - (NOTE: THE TITLES OF THE POEMS WERE ALL GOT INTENTIONALLY CAPITALIZED ON THE FIRST LETTER OF EACH WORD FOR AESTHETIC PURPO...
