time has always been against us.
our first meeting
only when we were seventeen
-- much too late
that same night
the minutes flew by
and morning came too soon
a week went by
before we met again
just a quick "hi" and "bye"
our second date, five days later,
brutally interrupted by a gunman
-- a moment that felt like hours
then, ten hours
you in a hospital bed, quiet
and ten hours became forever
oh, how turtorous time is,
keeping me in this prison
waiting for your return
YOU ARE READING
What I've Never Told You ✔
Poésie❝why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it?❞ ➢ a collection of poetry ∙ ∙ ∙ I stopped writing. There was no real reason for it, but for some reason, I just did. No words on paper anymore, no way to let my thoughts out. I kept eve...
