Your words had always been just like poetry to me.
Your voice held a tone that tasted of what beauty could be.
And that loud, meaningful, and desperate
rhyme
Took my heart one crooked beat at a time.
I remember when we talked of nothing for hours.
Underneath blankets and tears, your stories towered.
And I remember my thoughts, shortened and halted,
Yet I didn't care, your soft ones were strong and those, I exalted.
I don't remember the day when your words became angry.
It happened in a second, in a minute, and a year.
But I dealt with them because I loved you.
And your words, though deprecating, were still beautiful all the same.
Your words had always been just like poetry to me.
The way I saw them made me feel wrong, yet right.
But the day I realized that your words were really just knives,
That was the day that I began to write mine.
YOU ARE READING
Violet Dreams
Poetry"We wander and we let the words lead us." Old Poetry. Not my best. But still here :)
