4. No one really left.
With your shredded crown of daffodils,
oh as sour as sugar you are,
so contagious is your blank sight
as I see the self you were lying on the dirt,
while the soul we shared follows you
leaving me as empty as in the start I was.
it's not your fault
but I'm so weak I can't help but blame you,
searching for something to hold on to
so I won't fall.
But, what if I just let my self go?
would it hurt?
at least there I won't be alone,
or would I?
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts...of a vanishing mind.
PoetryRemix de pensamientos que pululan por mi cabeza y que, con su aleteo, marcan el ritmo de mi consciencia.
