I always forget that I exist.
I'm just a piece of cloth who used to wipe a feet.
I'd probably lose my head if it weren't attached to my neck.
But you've always reminded me of the best version of myself.
Needless and threads may hurt,
But I'm willing to weave you in my heart. Your face is woven across my mind.
You saw stitches in my broken heart.
YOU ARE READING
The Amorist's Magnum Opus (A Poem Collection)
PoetryDepending on the path that we walk through and the way we understand every single step that we take on it. There are various ways that we give meaning and deal with love and life. Consequently, it shows that the odyssey of experience is obviously no...
