((Gave Acrostic poetry a shot. ❤️
Read the first letter of every line and comment what you find)) :)
This is my story.
He is my muse.
I am not quite myself today,
Sitting on the edge of the bed, singing morning blues.
It isn't how I wanted it to turn out.
Struggling with an invisible rope tied around my neck, a tight noose.
Memories of you haunting me.
You always liked my hair cascading down in curls, loose.
"Stay strong", I whispered to my weak heart.
Trying was becoming too hard.
Oh how I cherished my name on your lips.
Reminiscing is all I have left now.
Yes, it is true, you are my most painful gift and most beautiful sin.
YOU ARE READING
Echo of Thoughts
PoetryPoetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that hurt. It is a matter of life not just a matter of language... Breathe in experience, breathe out poetry....
