I'm sitting here,
waiting for the waves to
wash me,
clean the sadness out of me.
Thinking that
people don't really care.
Getting used to
feeling that
the only one that cares about me
is me
(but not so much)
and sometimes
the ocean, too.
Crying for me
knowing that
I can't help myself
and that the ocean will only be there for
a short period of time.
What will happen then?
Will the salty dried out kisses
on my clothes
remind me of
the only lover that
truly cared for me
and wiped the tears off my cheeks
when I needed someone?
The deep lake of tears.
Ocean.
YOU ARE READING
The Questions (and Answers, Maybe)
PoetryThis is a poetry book about questions I have on my mind almost all of the time. It's about poetry itself, my feelings, my points of view on some hard topics and more. It's very personal for me, but I know that many other people think about these thi...
