Have you ever looked up at the waxing crescent moon, its slender light piercing the darkening sky, and felt like you were walking barefoot on a path strewn with shattered dreams, every step sending shards of pain deep?
Like watching a tragedy play out on a stage, the moon's light slowly fading into darkness, as life continued its relentless march forward, oblivious to my pain.
You held her hand like a fragile treasure, whispering words that tasted of honey and promises, reserved only for her ears. Meanwhile, I stood there, a spectral presence, terrified to even draw breath, as if each inhalation threatened to plunge me back into the abyss of death.
It felt like climbing an endless mountain, each step more arduous than the last, only to slip and slide back down to the bottom, bruised and broken. Or like a glass figurine, delicate and beautiful, yet shattered beyond repair, each fragment reflecting the agony and heartache that consumed my soul.
I couldn't help but wonder if your heart still glowed with the light of the crescent moon, or if you had found a way to fill the dark void inside, while mine remained a hollow shell, aching for the warmth of the sun.
YOU ARE READING
A Lover's Confession
Storie d'amoreWords left unspoken can weigh heavily on the heart, but in this collection of poems, the unsaid is finally given a voice. With raw vulnerability and heartfelt sincerity, each poem is a confession made to someone, whether it be a past love, a present...
