I know that this room was beautiful once
With a turn of a key, the round door creaks
I want to believe that it's pristine
Still in all its glory, flawless and untouched
Each item, a part of a masterpiece
Engulfed in a rainbow of hues
But these beliefs are just a farce
This room is now shabby, broken, sullied by wandering hands
Remnants of my past loves
Stolen by thieves who've turned this room dull
And I am exposed like a wound
Slowly peeling away, layer by layer
(S.M.)
YOU ARE READING
Tongue-Tied Desires
Poesia"To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves." -Federico García Lorca Was #561 in Poetry
