let me start with unstressed phrases, because right now it's a little strange. i don't even know how i started to scratch words in my head to let it scream and how i clawed this beating organ to make the bleeding evident.
it wasn't the pain why this is aching. it wasn't you why i'm hurting. but it's me. i expected. that explains my suffering.
" well, does it taste good? "
ain't that accurately sure, but i am personally convinced that 'damn, it hurts so good'.
i won't tell you how many tears that i bathed with those sleepless nights and somehow got depressed, reminding me that someone had managed to shatter the towering walls which made a solid impact that it reached deep down to my soul.
the thing is, you aren't a precaution that i can put to my rules and regulations.
i wasn't foretold to build paranoia. perhaps, i did. although, you and i never exist.
YOU ARE READING
ain't first, ain't last
Poetryto be one's saturn. [old poetry collection for someone we could never have]
