~
and you held my hand
in between your soft calloused one.
and i knew then,
that i am lost.
lost in your eyes
lost in your words
and
lost into confusion.
but all things come to an end
every rose must wither
every tingle must stutter.
just as your hand held mine,
your lips were already forming goodbye. ■
YOU ARE READING
❌ Vacancy ❌
PoesíaPoetry has always been hard to write. But for me, there is no such thing as difficult poetry. Because I dont write to please. I write to release. ∵♔♡
