His knuckles brushed up against mine
As he tried to hold my hand
His finger tips were cold
From the storm
Searching for my warmth
But as I felt the sudden pinch
If his skin on mine
I realized I didn't love him
And in my pocket I put my hand to hide
-kay
There's a word that I learned in Latin class a few years back that I forget now that refers to when an poet changes the order of the words to either make a time or the emphasis a certain word. I thought that this was super cool because it felt like something only poets could get away with. Since then I've read authors who do the same and I lost interest in the device because it didn't feel as special. Well fuck that. The last line of this poem would typically be written "I put my hand in my pocket to hide" but I changed the wording because I think it sounds better this way.
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The Story Of A Girl- A Book Of Original Poetry
PoetryOriginal Poems written from inspiration in my own life. They are about love, hate, sadness, anger and so much more Updates every Sunday so stay tuned for more!!
