On some days, I wake up as the sun approaches the window.
Stretching my limbs would feel right to do, and so I did.
After that, I water the plant a friend gave me.
Make coffee for myself,
and hum a familiar melody with the birds.
They were my morning visitors who I like to welcome.
Even the morning sun was kind enough
to dance in my living room.
These were the days when I didn't mind
the emptiness of the house.
And there are still days when the sun never reaches my window.
Waking up seems like the last thing I wanted to do.
I let the flowers wilt, and no morning visitors either.
My body felt dying and so I let it.
These were the days when I search for your presence
in every corner of the house.
YOU ARE READING
See You On The Other Side
Puisi"Isn't it awful to find love at such a young age and be robbed of it for the rest of your life?" This is a collection of poetry and prose dedicated to every person who couldn't find a way to move forward from their past. To every person who loved so...
