Raging on my window pane,
your eyes-
so very full of raindrops.
Thrashing palms across the glass
swinging branches-
I hear your pleadings;
washing the camphor in me.
Idle;
to why the air smells of demise
even if-
the deaf in me had ears.
I shall be eternally blind;
to the scratches on my chest.
I rub my nose,
on the lime falling off my bowels;
The banging louder on my door.
I whisper to the walls-
stories of sunsets
and half filled glasses.
Footsteps in the corridor,
now I hear.
You sprinting across-
like a storm from one room to another
in search of me,
so very black and white.
LOKI
YOU ARE READING
MIRROR OF ME | Poetry
Poetrya dance to the fleeting emotions, notes to the music of life, a story of everything felt and told yet still, so many stories; so very untold. Of nights spent in solace of people so much more. Rankings: 🥇#poetry - 40 [26/12/23] 🥇#po...
