Every night I hear them
whisper not to my ears
but to my beating heart.
They frequently remind me
on how beautiful they are
when being kept and I am
sure they are anodyne.
They are visible in my
eyes but I chose to be
blind so that pain won't
penetrate when I see you
holding someone's hands,
and that is how I enshrine
my beating heart.
And every time you sing,
they can't help but scream
by the inside so I had
to suppress the sensation
they send to my beating
heart and I have to scold
them to be numb at once.
They are supposed to be
strong but you're making
them so weak, but again
I have to stop them from
escaping and as I
continue to control them,
I learned to be contented
and be happy in silence.
YOU ARE READING
Blued Lines
PoetryTo those whose heart has been ripped apart, you're not alone in the boat. If you think that poets write wonderful lines and echoing endings, then you got it wrong because we also get broken and as you read each poem, the sadder and painful it become...
