You were a lone wilting flower in the graveyard of what you had lost.
Then when you first saw her, she looked like the life that was snatched away from your
hands.
Her presence was like fire; spreading around heat and light.
When you second got near her, she felt like a rose and as you tried to reach her you got pierced by thrones.
When third you touched her, you called her the sun as her hug felt warm like fire but every time your skin was reddened with burns by feeling her.
When fourth you knew her, you said you loved her, she was the one, your world.
When fifth you got her, you complained of all the pain she caused you leaving you with bruises black and blue.
When sixth you ended things, you said you were not like your father and the rest of the men but only you knew that the only reason you could sleep knowing that you broke someone was because you were just as broken as she.
YOU ARE READING
This Life.
PoetryNot a story. Just few poems, write ups, feelings put together in a disoriented manner. The ones with no credit are written by me, whereas the others have the credits given. Please, give a try :)
