I don't know much it hurts
But, I sure do know it hurts me more.
To stand out here
Before these curved walls
And pale floor.
I realized how happy
And beautiful I was
Chasing after you.
Now I feel weary
Sad and lonely
Broken to different cores
Of heartbreaks.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Letters
PoetryWe are Afraid. The supposed Ones with bravery of hearts are weakened because of affection. Now we lay low on succulent beds and Undercovers. These are my honest Dead Letters.
