the words sit within a chamber of echos in my mouth,
and i almost cant catch them as they run out,
they run to the north and to the south,
to fall in your ears whilst yet i'm in a state of doubt,
for my actions never prove the words i speak so easily,
i distance myself from your sweet words,
that you speak so greedily,
begging me to speak with the same keywords,
and phrases that you lock within your head,
but yet my words just grow distant and trapped in my throat,
for i'd rather be dead,
than ever have to hear when you change your mind and travel by boat,
to get away from me when i become myself,
and you can't deceive yourself of how i sick i am beneath the scenes,
you can't run from the elf,
that lives in my own jeans,
and i can't lie to you with my sweet words, when you realise that it isn't me that lives within my soul,
and you can't run from the birds,
that will chase for all of the control,
that you have locked within,
to be deep and never to believe that i may feel the same.
YOU ARE READING
Kalopsia.
PoetryKalopsia • Noun ; The state in which everyone and everything looks beautiful. ✧一 一一 一一 一一 一一 一一 一一 一一 and here the words will bleed onto the page of each separate chapter in my mind, and the words will fall so effortlessly out of my eyes. 一 一一 一一...
