Why do we paint smiles on everything if our own
heart is breaking into pieces?
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Why do we think that wanderers are lost souls while they
know exactly what they're looking for?
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Why is beauty measured in mere judgments of the eye
while we know we fall for hearts and not their makeup?
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Why do we place our candy hearts in the hands of those
with sour tongues?
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I never asked anyone and kept it tucked within the folds
of my pillowcase as I thought about it every night.
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Will we ever know why?
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YOU ARE READING
Mood Board
Poesie❝Pictures that bleed more words than your lips would ever say.❞ (#27 in poetry on 09/08/2016) [© Quotes are mine; the pictures aren't.]
