The home I once felt safe in is now in ruins—rubbles beneath my feet and picture frames shattered lining the hallways. The stronghold used to hold the both of us, but the weight of our problems weighed down the walls and the floors.
Our passion burned out but it was the cause of the fire—Ironically. Words turned into gasoline that rained down on us and there was nothing that we could do. It was only moments away before the explosion.
If I could've saved one thing from that burning home, it wouldn't be you. It would be me. I should've known.
YOU ARE READING
Letters From The Moon
PoesíaHe took me to the moon, but left me there. A collection of poetry-intertwining a journey of love, pain, surviving, and blooming. Copyright 2019 by Lorenzo Miguel C. Que All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manne...
