if writing
can be a way to tell you
the things i cant speak,
i will write until the bones in my hands crack.
i wish you knew how things are for me. how things really are.
you stand on your feet, miles and miles away from my body.
my lonely, cold, aching body.
a body that only you can warm.
but we are forbidden. and im trying to break free,
for us.
maybe one day
i wont be so cold.
and youll calm the aching pains in my chest when i lay my head on yours.
maybe one day ill be happy.
dancing around, holding your hand while we walk down the street, showing you off to everyone i know,
maybe when i break free,
if i break free,
youll be there to give me a new home.
and maybe then, will we get the chance we deserve.
~ if you stay
YOU ARE READING
para ti || for you
Poetryin a series of poems, i give you an insight on what goes on in my head, regarding people, places, and memories i have experienced. some happy, most sad, but all the whole truth. this is for all of you, and if you ever see this, you know who you are...
