Washed up on the beach.
A notebook still intact in my hand.
The sea cast me aside.
I was intent on goodbye.
Seems it was never an option to choose.
Writing all the names of the things that caused me this immeasurable pain.
I find it easy to place the blame on everything, but I write only one name.
Only one thing.
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You can blame everything or find the source.
YOU ARE READING
Life Beneath The Words At Play
PoezjaMy poetry is only to fill blank pages. You decide how to color it in. That meaning, you can interpret the poems the way you want. I only put the words together, and you decide the rest :) Yet another poem dump for my unorganized mess that is my poe...
