Being with your glasses is red,
I make the session with you the darkest blue.
Every heartbeat on my timeline became unused perfume,
When I got older, I thought the everything I assumed.
Chasing your shadows on my street line,
I know, you would be back to yourself,
With my roots, I lay every day on a naked shelf.
I'm not trying to overreact, but I might die if I let this happen,
The entire shape of me led to misshapen.
Your talk is a sway on my damn spikes,
Switching the lights off invades the whole space of your type.
I'm historically heartbroken, drowning in the whirl, running from my emotions,
Not a stranger, I'm yours, the crumble of my anger,
Even the air is running away from me, falling within the anchor.
I take weed and drugs on the table, a ripple of rocks and regrets on my chest,
On frequent nights like this, in a pale dress, I'm depressed.
I'm longing for a moment, it might be the sound of your giggle.
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...
