The light becomes bright
As the curtains blow softly,
Revealing the scene.
The creak of footsteps
Pass my wooden doors.
Has time finally passed ?
Here I lay
patiently,
On a cold bedded floor.
Not knowing
That you have sought out
My hiding spot.
Though I ask,
Has time finally passed ?
I grasp specks of dust
Surrounding me like soft glitter,
Or so I thought.
I smile ,
Momentarily ,
As a smile can frame a fragile soul.
But though I ask,
Has time finally passed ?
I hear the door handle,
As you pull
Rapid and frantic.
My breath now hot and heavy ,
Burns my porcelain skin
With each inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
My body
frozen like ice,
Paralysed with fear.
You enter ,
Examine me
And allow your form
To enter mine.
But alas,
Time has finally passed.
YOU ARE READING
Collections of a Thought-Volume 1
PoésieThis volume of poetry contains the topics of love , obsession , loss and healing. It touches on subject matters that may be overlooked and shadowed. It is expressed in deep thoughtful words. Some of the poetry in this volume contains personal exper...
