The moon is full as your heart,
And white as your lips were,
When time kissed them.
What are you anyway?
A figment of my mind?
A tear on my skin?
A speck in time,
A memory?
A lie?
You don't seem real yet,
I feel you every time this quill pushes
Words into this unaddressed letter.
I feel you every time my eyes close-
And let my dreams consume me.
I feel you every time I breathe.
As if you're the one who keeps my heart beating.
But I don't see you.
I never saw you.
Won't you tell me your name?
I hear a laugh.
I hear a cry.
I hear sorrow brimming with joy.
I hear insignificance dressed in abstractness.
I hear myself.
And I know,
That is what your name is-
Poetry.
YOU ARE READING
Contemplations of a Disturbed Soul
PoesíaHighest rank #83 in poetry (24 jan 2018) #3 in abstract (1 sept 2018) Some pieces of my heart that I found lying all around you. Which I picked up and tried to burn. Some did. These remained....