Time does not spare anyone.
Not the pregnant mother, nor the newborn and neither the little girl.
I dream a little dream of me,
A beckoning to my beloved.
I've written many-a letters to death
But this time , I am juliet .
Romeo is self-love.
And the story is tragic.
Take away the light from my eyes
Wound my insides
Push me into comets
Dig me a cozy grave
And let me disperse into the soil
And the soil is made into pots
or
Simply put a bullet in my heartstrings
And put me to sleep
my sun will forever set
set me free
set
set me free
GOODBYE
YOU ARE READING
कथा | rotten poems
PoetryMy helplessness has written itself in words , o woe. I surrunder to you all of me. Copyright @ Mehak COMPLETED // 2019
