i recently knew
that it's been a whole mess in my head
the burning woods in the middle of the war , and the broken bones and i couldn't get this far ,
from my dead heart and my lost star ,
as if we are finding the shattered tragic in every scar ,
and my pain won't let me to start over ,
but then i was feeling cold in the summer ,
and i was already gone and dead in the winter , you opened your arms and everything was warmer ,
as if i never knew what it feels like to be colder , now i'm stuck in the last line of this chapter , crying about the invisible story in my deadly corner ,
you were fitting the role of being a killer ,
in our love that we couldn't make it seem better ,
one of us was trying to be the fighter ,
and one of us was trying to be the survivor ,
i was dying to be the winner ,
now tell me who is the loser? .
YOU ARE READING
Dear You...
Poetryletters and feelings written in this book in the form of a blame or a little longing , feeling worried about a love story that didn't work and ended from the beginning hurt , but what hurts the most is waiting for someone that will never come back .
