My phone screen lights up,
The buzzing echoes
in the room that
always seemed too full for its own good
Sometimes, I think words
are like plants,
they root in your brain,
and some crowd out the others.
And the leaves that fall remind me
of things
I wish I knew how to say.
Your words grow in my mind,
where you gently planted them,
patted the soil down,
with soft palms.
Your eyes carry so much
You carry a whole world on your shoulders,
But your Heracles never came.
Where do I begin?
How do I craft my word's into bandages
for your bleeding?
How do I touch your heart
without shattering it?
What can I do
to
stop
you from
hurting?
YOU ARE READING
Stumble Through Life
PoésiePoetry Collection(Original): There are infinite homes out there, for all of us, under the shimmering stars in the roar of the night, or the dark solace of the shadows on the sun, and everything in between. And may I only hope that my words could bec...
