I look at the mirror,
watching the pain buried in my eyes
and hollow feelings as if its
some films scenes that are horror,
so scared you might forget about
the other scars that are made to stay and just watching me live with some more, didn't accept to
fade away.
Tho you're my glasses,
the only thing I see with,
please I need us to start again,
a new page and a new pen,
do not fold my eyes
with some material,
I want you to hold me
before I hold your hand or make a move, please don't leave me alone,
My special little home.
-ClaryElvis
YOU ARE READING
the nowhere of believers.
PoetryThis book speaks to people who suffered from the lovely little things, The little things that may slowly destroy us, wether it's before, now, or after. And keep us numb, instead of ignoring all the strength we could have inside. to people w...
