my heart only speaks
of sadness and hatred,
of selfishness and envy,
and the coldness hugs me
more than anyone ever does.
there were some days
when i woke up
with the same sadness
crawling up in my veins,
like it's some kind of drug
being injected in my system.
and i thought to myself,
"isn't it funny how we're
living inside a dream
that chokes us to death?
and we're breathing the air,
that make us beg
to stop breathing?"
and i hate it.
i hate myself.
i hate how i forced myself
to get up and see what's behind
these quiet, dark walls that surround me.
i hate to keep my optimism alive when i know there's no permanent
positivity at all.
i hate the vain hopes, the forgotten words and memories from the people who should be remembering these things.
i hate how i try to keep these barriers
around me when the only thing i wanted was for someone to break it down for me.
then someone crossed the line.
i suddenly got the urge
to paint his walls
and give colors to his
monochrome life.
i suddenly got the urge
to make him see what's behind
his dark room.
i suddenly got the urge
to let him see the universe
that hides behind his eyes.
it's all new to me
but i'd love for you to witness
the sunset
and the sunrise
with me
and live under the same sky, maybe.
YOU ARE READING
of random kisses and heartaches
Poetryhe found me through the lines of my poems when i wasn't looking for love. soon, our verses built the feelings, the touches, and the kisses until it hurt. until nothing was left to be felt but the tingling sensation of our lips when they were connect...
