My dear,
She suffers.
She screams it
everyday, always,
not with her voice
but with her eyes
not wet but dry
For she already cried too much.
Stormy sea
no shore to be seen
waves shake her
mind and soul
till her limbs are weak.
Her white wrists
are reaching out for help.
I can't
I can't
Her illness
is her only cure.
She doesn't need me
she doesn't need me
Dark, deep
no way out
no escape.
She needs him
she needs him
him who cared for her
him Who Never Was.
Handcuffs to an image
she thought she had dreamt of.
I support her
she doesn't want me
she doesn't want me
my happiness is bound
to a blue sunflower.
What I chase is just too far,
waterfall for fragile force
doesn't offer cure.
My hand is losing grip,
thorn between
two kinds of blood.
I don't want to let the love go.
Hold on to it.
Baby hold on
Baby hold on.
Please take my hand
so deep inside I know
my water won't be enough
for you to bloom.
And my rose will become like sand
and your heart will fade
and my ropes will be broken
and my hand won't be enough anymore
and failure will win.
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
for you won't be here
to help me
that what You Need
Is Not in me.
it doesn't exist
although it could have existed.
I'm not enough,
nothing is enough.
not me but him.
but he's my father after all.
YOU ARE READING
Unsent.
Poetry"My Dear, It's a beautiful day outside, But I don't feel like enjoying it..." _________________________________________ A series of unsent letters. Some of them may contain inappropriate language or behaviours and some of them may be completely poin...
