I still like to call you Africa,
it feels like you're mine,
but with you it feels like one step forward,
and three steps back.
I know you're one of a kind,
you're not one to leave behind,
but really- please
for a second here I want to scream
how much more can you deny?
You play so hard with my feelings
you fool me like you don't even mind.
I've gotten myself into this laberynth
of cliffs and clearings
and you're kicking my heels
like you somehow want to bring me down.
Is that it?
You know, maybe I can't read your mind
and maybe I can't travel through time,
but you have lived here your whole life,
some of these people must certainly know
what you've got there to hide.
YOU ARE READING
I named her Africa #Wattys2015
PoesíaI didn't mind if my fingertips were rusted with coffee grounds, or if my palm still hosted bread crumbs, I reached out my hand across the table, and you squeezed it but proved me wrong. My mind was spiraling, my heart, unstable. ____________________...
