I used to read you like a book
just one word was all it took
but now that's more than you can give
One single word
is that too much to
ask?
One word could tell a story
just say anything and I'd understand
what you really meant
what you really felt
but now
silence
the page is blank
the light's gone dark
it's not just you
it's all them, too
they've all just walked out of my life
the ones I care the most about
I think they're gone
my one last doubt
is all the hope that I have left
that maybe this is just a dream
and I'll wake up
and they'll be there
and I'll look up
to meet her stare
and she'll just say
one single word
and she'll be back
and I'll open up my heart again
so she can read me like a book
and then I'll look
into her eyes and say
"For whatever it is
no matter what I've done
I still don't know
but what I know is this:
I'm sorry."
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken
PoetrySome kids keep diaries. I don't; I have this book. Everything I write in here is a personal memoir of my life. This should give you a glimpse inside my soul from the second you start reading. This is one of the many manifestations of my life story.
