Sensing the breeze where your eyes pass by,
Watching the thrill of my soul as she goes dry.
My heart beats fast, how can I be brave with their prints on my flush,
You are a vision that I'll never touch.
Your vast whispers are printed on my floor, I cringed them once in December,
So before you go, could you light the lamp where I'll remember.
Before you go and search for your glitter, you are on the hill, a free,
Sometimes I go insane, making you crazy.
But it doesn't feel enough beyond your glasses.
Before you go I shall dress and walk beside the coffee shop,
On the dead-end street, there is where I'll stop.
It seems I'm the one who whistles flames,
Sometimes I feel like I have a hole in my mind,
I want to get it out, but I keep riding the ride.
YOU ARE READING
Beyond The Glass
PoetryBeyond the Glass is a poetic storytelling about two people who find each other and promise to stay together until the door closes, but the walls between them are large. The poems are written from the woman's point of view. They capture her raw hone...
