You chased after me
I flew away
I chased after you
But I couldn't see anything
You played my strings
And I let them ring
I let the beautiful melody
Consume the smallest parts of me
You flew away
And left me hanging on my own strings
YOU ARE READING
Trampolines - Poetry ✘✘
Poetry" Into the place I call my home the dome that is my head the sickening strain inside my brain says what needs to be said. " This is a poem anthology. Which is fancy talk for saying, this is my book of poems. -pride
