How does it feels like to be a fool?
It's knowing that you shouldn't give because
you won't be able to take anything back ever again.
It's staring when your heart tells you not to look.
It's taking your heart and giving it away.
And why, or how, that doesn't matter.
What matters is the person, the moment and the feelings.
What matters is the silence and that single second when
the world seems to hold it's breathe as you give,
And then feeling it stir.
And knowing that you can fall,
Down, down, down,
really hard.
And it would knock you out.
But taking that step,
and letting yourself fall.
YOU ARE READING
The Ink Spilling From My Pen ✔
Poetry* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The ink that spilled out of my pen formed these poetry. * ** * * * * * * * * * * ** ** * * ** * * ** * ** ** *** ** * * ** * * ** A random poetry collection that spill...
