Like a repetitive melody, smooth and soft.
Words wanting to know more of me.
And with clouded eyes your drifting hands,
try to claim new territory.
You ask what my fingers do at night, where they roam, what they touch.
But what if all they do is aggressively pinch and poke pale skin?
Or would hearing that be too much?
You want to know, not what I am up to - but what I am up for.
You don't want to hear my fear.
You want soft words, on softer lips.
You want something easy and clear.
The dead words, which never came to be,
They swirl aggressively in my mind.
But all they'd create are strings.
So I smile, laugh and close my eyes.
Both of us pretending to be blind.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Words on Soft Lips
PoesíaDefinitely not a poet, these are just thoughts rolling around inside my mind. The best advice I've ever been given is - there are others who have a wound in the shape of your words. X To all the lost souls X
