In my cloud of thoughts i've broken all the gestures, leaving so many words on unspoken.
Hidden all this life attain, some attractions left untamed.
Words and gestures I used to have, like the one I used to tell myself so I wouldn't fumble.
"Take me to a place, where I rely on no one's happiness but my own."
Those words use to tumble and bumble before it was formed. In my clouded thought of haze, happy was the spirit. Dreaming of the perfect days with magical haze. Oh, the perfect ways to dream of happy.
Happy; an irrelevant person that sits on the edge, usually have spectators to watch their be fallen life. They sing: "A little birdy, a little baby, a little lady, come and save me now. A dove or two, brings me home to play. A prayer or two to send me away."
In my cloudy thoughts was a urge to fleet. A dream that keeps me relevant, a place of hide an go seek, perfect place to show my healing wounds. Once upon a time, they lived happily ever after Somewhere in your hazy thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Kissed By The Unknown
RomanceA series of poems I wrote, from bullying, to mostly romance, to friendship, and to mysteries. It might be bad so bare with me. Mostly based on personal experiences.
