and here I am
once again,
pleading my
fingers to
trace your
edges, and
my words to
take your
shape.
my ink has
became sick
of being
spilled in vain
for your sake,
but my head
cries and
screams at me
everyday to
write about
you.
my mind
tries to create
verses to make
poems for you,
afraid that
you might
become another
soon to disappear
memory.
I carve your
name everywhere,
to recall
how your love
used to pulse
in my veins,
how your breath
used to caress
my face, and
how your
lips used to
kiss my sorrow
away.
I compose
symphonies,
and spray your
scent all over
their notes,
scared to forget
the way the
galaxies in your
eyes mirrored
in my misty
ones to form
our own
constellation.
I paint the
horizon, and
colour it with
hues of your
affection, to
remember the
feeling of my
soul dancing in
the corridors
of your cozy
heart.
I let a little bit
of you sneak
into everything
I do, in hopes
to have pieces
of you I can call
mine.
YOU ARE READING
Dried petals
Poetry"and I find myself tucking your smile in the space that lies between every letter .for babe , if I can't keep you by my side ,then I'll lock you in each poem these hands write down ."_Aya Highest rank #43 in poetry on 23/7/2017 .
