Your name still hurts... In so many ways.
The sound of your voice still breaks me... In unimaginable forms.
But you leaving me, without so much as a goodbye;broke me in pieces and I can't seem to find a way through my scarred heart.
And my soul, oh my soul was left with a big dent that I can't seem to get rid of.
You left without so much as a goodbye...
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~Goodbyes break us to a point where even the soul can't be healed~
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YOU ARE READING
'Silent' Clouds.
Poetry¶Words have no meaning, unless you make them, turning them into a spontaneous overflow of rhythm¶ ¶A string of broken pieces interwoven into into poetry. Broken symphonies, turned into poetry¶
