&&.
at the age of 14, you confessed that my shine was the brightest among all the stars above the night sky—that made me love galaxies.
at the age of 16, you told me that my eyes speak wisdom, courage, and bravery while you were putting my hair behind by ear—that created parties in my tummy.
at the age of 18, you said that you wanted to see the nakedness of my body because you wanted to see the constellations and poetries under my clothes. you undressed me carefully and tastes every inch of me till you entered the door I kept on hiding down there.
at the age of 24, you witnessed with closed eyes how I cried for you when you were laying in a coffin. I never thought that you'd leave without even telling me those three magic words, because you gave me a book of poetry instead.
right at this moment, I'll slowly close the book we shared together and will just remember you through this book. you'll always be my poetry.
YOU ARE READING
Proses with its Roses
PoetryWe all have pain inside us, inside those softhearted yet tough hearts and it's on us on how to express it, how to ease it, and how to control it. Painters grab their brushes to express. Singers grab their microphones to express. Dancers grab their s...
