Left With a Scar
⋆ ˚｡ ︶⭑ ꒷꒦︶ ⋆ ⁺₊
Such a cruel winter for a cold person,
With no authentic happiness within.
Different varieties, but only one version—
You left with no clue, only a scar on my skin.
A trauma of a dramatic poet in a theater,
Just to keep the audience believing.
Lies behind those lies, truth hidden in my sweater.
You made Cornelia Street rhyming.
Come to my dreams, a nightmare without darkness.
My heart was borrowed by a monster.
A room full of clouds, but I feel the emptiness—
You know my smile, and you smile, my impostor.
The scars fill the pleasure with undeniable pain.
I'll still save you a seat for every table turn.
Bloody tears wiped away by an endless rain—
Take me home; please don't make me yearn.
You walked away but left my heart and a scar.
Don't know why you hate the winter season.
If only summer or spring could be the only blue star—
The end wasn't like a shadow for wild unreason.
YOU ARE READING
Cornelia Street
PoetryThrough sonnets inspired by Shakespeare, I finally reveal the intimate secrets I've kept hidden for so long, even though I'm afraid no one will hear them. They capture the anguish of unspoken emotions I've never been able to say out loud, hoping for...
