you pierced
your nails in it
your fingers have
blood stains
inside your
blunt nails
my skin still bleeds
it's living ever since
home
heart
garden
you plucked my
precious poppies from it
you took a lot of bricks
broke my home
thinking it's all yours
the land
now barren that is
drenched in tears
and slaughtered hopes
stinks of nightmares
and fear uproar
come, walk with me
on this road
this is a cemetery of my dreams
walk upon with me
they might drag you in
come, walk with me
lend me your feet
and walk with me
—here lies the poet but still in love with you
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
