I cannot ever cry as I go by the trees covered with fireflies. Shadows dance and creep and we follow the wind, racing with the full yellow moon. Urban legends come to life but I hold on tighter, I will never fall down. Revving the two-wheeled beast, we ride to where the cool breeze is from. Flags along the way mock my leaving. They sway with the icy wind as if waving goodbye to a friend. But my eyes are dry. Sitting on blades of grass that prick my skin, I look towards the heavens, breathing in the smell of sea and exhaling my negativities. Though, I still can not even cry even when I can only smell the sea in my memory. Not even when the blinding headlights burn my eyes. Not even when the last I see are of their flawed silhouettes. And then I thought, why shed tears when they are telling jokes? Tomorrow I will be miles away, yes. But tonight is our night, I will not cry even if I say goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
WORD PLAY
Poetry"The lonesome hours is when imagination is vast, limitless even". Word Play is a collection of poetry of all kinds made in the most haphazard moments of a gay girl's life. note: for the part about the 2015 movie Carol, see chapter titled "carol" P.S...
