How is it possible
In the sea of thousands of faces
Yours is in my mind.
I feel terrible
For telling myself that I'll forget about you
Turns out it was a lie,
Just to make myself feel better;
Thought I'd be satisfied
And live better.
How is it possible
That your words still haunt me
To these days.
It's terrible,
How you dodged my wishes
Like they were bullets
But maybe I was asking for
what is too much;
Maybe one last goodbye
Doesn't worth your time
But tell me why
All these times when you saw me
Down the streets
You chose to come running
And pulled me into your arms
Now you're building walls
Brick by brick
Ten feet tall
It hurts me that I'll never know
What is all of this for
YOU ARE READING
Words of A Bad Writer
PoetryHere lies the stories the words that speak of miseries that sometimes sing of beauty that some days lace with mystery but all the time dance in purity of a broken spirit writer * A collection of writings and poetry*
