My thoughts are a joke.
Into them, words are floating.
They are all the lies you spoke.
Are they lies?
I try to discover,
But I'm never sure.
I'm standing in questions about what you wrote.
There are many meanings for me to interpret.
I continue rebuilding the heart you once broke.
I tell jokes about your jokes.
I try to laugh,
But it doesn't work.
Maybe I'm paying the price of love.
You have kept distance,
While I keep hope.
YOU ARE READING
Cold days of a heart on fire
PoetryI should scream to the universe, But what is my voice after all? It is just one more between billions, And, with my death, it will not exist. So it is better for me to show what I need By writing my love, anger and dreams So I can make people see on...
