Wishes.
Those damn wishes.
I hate them
but
at the same time,
I can't help but believe
in them.
Just a little, tiny bit.
I can't help
myself from wishing on that shooting star
or that dandelion
as I let my shaky breath
blow on it.
I can't help
believing and wishing on something,
anything
out there
that might change
what I think may be
fate.
so
no matter how much I tell myself
or try to trick myself
into not believing on a silly
wish
that has absolutely
no possibility
of
never.
Ever.
Coming true.
I still force myself to sit out here,
lonely and deep into the night
Only whispering softly to
the moon
that I still wish for you.
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Words That Never Seem To Be Enough
PoetryA book filled with words that I thought made sense, but they never seem to be enough. *warning* emotional, messy, raw and full of sadness (sometimes a little happiness here and there) I hope you give my words a chance, maybe they'll be enough for yo...
