The cotton in my hands
Made its way to my face
Just like how your hand did
But this time it feels different
It's so soft as the clouds
Unlike yours, rough
It tickles my skin, then stings my heart
I'm holding this cotton in my hand
Because it wipes away all the dirt of broken promises,
All the dirt that are your lies
...Because I know it's time to wipe away the tears that have long dried.
I'm throwing away this cotton from my hands
Because I don't want to be tainted again with dust
From your touch— the cause of all the tortures of my heart
In the can, it will be forgotten—
I know it's time.
Now I can sit comfortably here in my favorite chair, without the thoughts of you.
Now I can look straight into my eyes through this mirror, confident there will be no images of you behind.
YOU ARE READING
Where My Head Lies
PoetryHere lies a midnight wanderer Finding her light Safe may she return back to her favorite spot near the window.
