You made me write about love again and heart breaks.
When will I stop holding my pen? And write my pain? When will I end the series of poetries I am writing?
Until I consume all the pages? Or when my heart stop beating for you? Tell me.
In an empty paper, I write everything until it left no spaces. Until my pen starts to dwindle its ink, like my feelings slowly fades.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY THAT STAYS
PoesíaYou 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...
