Her heart was under a lot of debris,
And her words felt like they were in a deep sleep.
She was filling up with poison,
And her pen refused to go on.
Words and metaphors felt foreign,
Like her emotions got locked out of heaven.
Now the waters are overflowing out of her pores,
And she tried to go out through locked doors.
Will she drown in her own unwritten poetry?
Or will she find herself in time and her creativity?
YOU ARE READING
Drops of Poetry
PoetryDrops of Poetry It's raining outside my window Just like my emotions inside me The taste of the salty rain and sorrow Every problem falls on me like rain I catch it with my hand Turning it to rhymes and names I'm soaking wet from wher...
