Is this what I want? or cuddling a feeling,
Finding myself suffering vividly in the ceiling,
If you find yourself on an edge know I'm tired of living,
If you feel like falling see that I was downstairs,
The helper draw unexpected ways on my expression,
Lost my drawn hopes in the last seconds of summertime,
I swear I hold the events with tension,
Blood danced out of my body, forgetting an afterlife happened,
Looking at you from glasses like yours,
I drew our steps for different dances,
Holding a hand before I get on a damn plane,
Screaming, pushing your soul with peers on heath,
Looking at you from your back in black and white,
But you painted my dark walls golden, staying like a father with water,
Talking false prophets, a morn in the hallway, lurking a spine,
The moment I knew I was not the warmth sun I drew a treason,
A lyrical, oral, and miracle, saying I'm sorry I didn't make it,
Sorry, I had nothing to do.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond The Glass
PoetryPutting poetry and prose on a glasses, A time passes, The scar built gashes, a sake of my health drew ashes, This poetry talks about the glasses, and my Cancer journey.
