I call on you my dear.
I hope you heard what I heard the day our eyes met,
the beating of my heart ringed loudly in my ears,
so if you did, then there's still time to make it stop
so please do because up till this day I've attempted in vain.
It knocks in my chest
I've kept it, prisoner, for centuries and reincarnations but somehow when our chests are close to each other it seems to awaken and disputed against me,
you said you felt it too and I hope you didn't,
what an embarrassment.
Feeling is like the brushing of palms
whereas hearing is like the smothering of faces.
Once again, what an embarrassment.
"Trust me with your heart,"
you said, as you tried to place your hand on my chest.
No, not yet and when I did accept it was too late.
You make presence by my resting
I revive only to hold vases
that remind me of people and places
I wish I could have been with you in each of them
I wish I could find you in them.
How do you expect me to hold a vase without flowers?
How do I function properly
when all I want to do is lie on the ground
like a flower starving for sunlight?
Why the pain?
Of hoping you'd dare to step a little closer
those flowers aren't going to float their way to lay on my grave.
I whish you were this alive.
@hvnyboo
YOU ARE READING
𝐔𝚴𝐃𝚬𝐑 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐊𝚰𝚴
Poetry"I'd let you into my mind but you'd have to get under my skin" ITALIANO/ENGLISH "The devastation and the unspoken destruction in her mind were the greatest catastrophes I had ever laid my eyes on along with the darkness that came along were my muses...
