I wanted to write you once.
Back when I was still naive.
I thought maybe if you could at least see my handwriting then maybe you could see me...
Just once I phantom this illusion.
But there's always a musician or doctor with the secret on how to get in your "pants".
How utterly annoying.
I'm just a friendly chat with an oval as a face.
Or that one person you run to on a rainy day when none of your real friends wish to play.
But beyond that I am just unsustainable space.
You wouldn't even miss me if I walked away from this keyboard...
Such a fact still burns me.
For if I were to be honest...
I thought we were more than mere data on a simple web page.
-Mello
YOU ARE READING
Melancholy Sunday
PoetryBeneath our identities we all want a place to call home. For even the most complex of us. Is still human. - Mello
