I stop writing for you,
when my words mean nothing to you,
when rainbow lost its hue,
when daffodils turn in to blue,
and period lost its cue.
I stop writing for you
because ink is for vain,
writing is pain,
I maybe insane,
still writing your name.
YOU ARE READING
Stitches and Wounds
PoesieI want you to hear my silent sobs whenever you are with him. I want you to feel my suppressed pain every wretched nights. I want you to know much I drowned in pain with the thought of you loving him. I want you to know how many stitched that knitted...
