Every drawing I created on my arms
Show the world my thoughts
Every line has a memory
Buried so deep in my mind
That the line has it own meaning
I trace my finger softly along the frozen river of these lines
And as they heal the memories fade
Sometimes I redraw them
They are destined to stay forever
With new memories and new tears
The endless river within not letting
Me leave but drowning me and saving my thoughts
So that the thoughts resurface
And my lungs become heavy
Because every drawing has a meaning
And every drawing killed me a little
YOU ARE READING
Broken words
PoetryA collection of my poems 'who we tend to be is the fixed and limited perception of the people around us. So when we are alone - who are we?'
