I could see myself at
the nearest edge of a cliff,
I stood there and stared
at what's in front of me.
I was thinking to jump
but I knew how painful
it can be when you reached
the ground knowing that no
open hand is waiting there—
so I decided not to.
You were not there because
you chose someone over me.
In a moment of silence,
I could hear nothing but
the soothing splash of wind.
I could feel its willingness to
listen to my countless stories
I've been carrying lately.
From that time on,
it was a good companion,
something I considered as my
dearest someone where I can
confide my secrets with and
though it's not talking, but
surely its calming breeze was
its sweetest reply for me.
As I continue oozing up
telling stories to the unseen,
I feel so light and every time
I speak your name on it—
the less I remember you.
And if one day
you will seek my feelings
I once had for you, but
tell you it's gone then
wonder where did it go;
stand at the edge of a cliff,
listen to its melancholic breeze
then you'll get the answer—
I've set them free, and
the wind knew about it.
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...
