SEVENTY
thunder in this heart of mine
And maybe we are being
written in the same storybook.
Maybe our veins are overlapping.
Is that why I can feel the thunder
clashing under my flesh?
There is a roar in your heart; it's in mine, too.
We're bleeding the same letters.
Are you writing the same tragedy
that's dripping from my lips?
Describe your life in three words
𒐀 Unpredictable , unusual, crazy.
May
YOU ARE READING
𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. Here, I will speak the sadness, the heartache, and the decaying for all the unspoken. Perhaps under this layer of melancholy, the girl I once knew still exists. First poetry collection i...
