that's how I work things out with my heart,
I beat it until I got tired;
through reminiscing the past,
through replaying the traumatic scenarios
that had already passed,
until I realized,
it won't have a hold on me anymore.
through staying up all night
during saturdays up to sunday mornings,
through my crying sessions at three a.m.,
or at five in the afternoon
within the bathroom,
through listening to love songs
that used to be the anthem of
affection and friendship for me
but turned to be
the elegy of the relationships
that had died and already buried;
through pain,
through agony,
through the things
that
are
still
killing me.
that's how I work things out with my heart
I beat it hard until it bleed real hard;
until it open up;
until I feel the torment,
until my hands got soaked
with blood and sweat;
and those made it stronger
than before.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY THAT STAYS
ŞiirYou don't really love someone, not until they become the person behind of your poetries. When poetry speaks, it echoes through your soul, lingers in your heart, and dances in your dreams. And... it stays. I wrote poems enough for people to ask, "w...
