Umbrella
"It's raining inside our umbrella," my mom told me trying to shield me and herself from the downpour inside.
She was laughing while she told me those but I couldn't make my lips do the same.
Was it quite sad? To be deceived by the thing that you thought will protect you?
Was it quite sad to stay with the person who, you thought, would make you smile and shield you away from pain but was actually the very reason why you are crying yourself to sleep?
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He Who Cried Words
PoesíaYou made my eyes cry but never of tears. You stabbed my chest but it never made me bleed. When you broke me apart, you just gave life to an art. When you broke my heart, you only fueled me to write. -E. Pleuvoir Cover made with canva
