It was tragic,
and so beautiful.
A beautiful tragic that hurts
remembering everything you had forgotten.
Happiness,
but more on regrets,
sorrows
and
fears.
All the bullets,
shooting me behind my back.
All the knives,
stabbing me multiple times.
All the scars
that keep on damaging me-
as if it was a tattoo I can't get rid of.
All the words,
with the sharpest one
continuously killing me-
ripping the hell out of me by letters.
Which turned me into pieces,
and all the thoughts that commemorate everything I should slip from.
And maybe this is the hardest thing to do,
Detach everything that once made me feel alive.
I don't feel anything, but I'll try my very best to live again.
Without you,
a fantasy that reminds me to stop reminiscing
of reality that'll remain a dream.
YOU ARE READING
All the feels
PoetryIf poetry means being close to your heart, I will let thousand of thoughts to tear myself apart. Just for you to hear every single word I want to say. Even if you don't deserve to be my first and last page. And maybe this is my habit, breaking my ow...
