she's not the same,
she doesn't play those games,
when she tasted her own medicine, it stung
now all she does is bite her tongue.
she just spoke with haste,
no time to taste,
the words she spat.
don't do that.
she missed the feeling of her soft smiles
it had been a while.
her silent cries,
are now heard.
am I happy ?
well, it's all that's left,
all I've felt,
all I have,
all I need.
22. 10. 2018
Nowethu C.
YOU ARE READING
m o o n f l o w e r
Poesíapoetry to feed the soul ・。.・゜✭・.・・。.・゜✭・.・ this is my emotion converted to ink scrawled upon pages and pages of a blank white void of something that was once nothing
