We have always been playing like this:
Going in circle;
From limbo
to treachery -
Handing me an armor made of cotton;
Weapons made of defenseless words.
"If I had been an open book, would I feel this awful?"
Here I am still wondering -
always does
Fate,
When is it safe to hold you?
Clearly, there is order,
But sadly, no progress at all
No matter how justified the means are;
I would eventually be sentenced to death -
Without anything
To bring with me;
Fate,
Can I hold you just this time?
YOU ARE READING
Failed Threats: Disheartened
PoetryHow are you so certain about your love for me? Can't you hear me at all, darling? I'm giving my all here; Screaming threats at the top of my lungs. Are you certain that this is not just out of pity? Because I don't need it at all - I already feel so...
