In the emptiness of the night, he was wrapped in innocently white wires that reflected the stage lights. But nothing about those strings were faultless. He was dragged around by a fate bigger than us: a puppeteer.
Once his cords were intertwined with mine, destiny would control his motions the other way- no matter the consequences on me.
I was left with physical pains: rope burns from the strings up and down my arms.
And mental pains: the feeling of loss, like one of the strands wrapped around my heart and tugged it out of my chest.
And all I wish is that the universe would let me be; and stop wrapping my men in strings before pulling them away from me.
~Why am I not the one in control when my life is the play?
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Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
