the things that separates us,
speaks in bombs.
in a loud chaos,
things don't come through.
on a bus to the desert,
in a stressed out crowd,
invite them,
the ones who say nice things.
when I run,
do you see me sweat?,
can you feel my longings?,
do you let me keep them?
not always right,
I don't really care.
I stare into the sun,
and dance on the edge sometimes,
because I want to,
because it's fun.
but that can't happen,
I shut it out.
and when I shout,
there is silence.
when I cry,
there is silence.
and the things that separates us,
they don't really exist.
YOU ARE READING
feelz
Poetry💫 Hope for the future mixed with frustration, longing, melancholic nostalgia and realization. A whirlwind of feelings or - "feelz". . . 💫 ♡ (I take no credit for the images used, only the lyrics are mine) ♡
