the wounds you inflict
have also evict
all traces of fond memories frail heart has picked.
the carrots are cooked,
or so they say –
so why am I filled with much dismay?
when I hear your name,
I swear in vain
to a God I pray to amidst my pain.
One day I will stop waiting.
One day I will stop hating.
And I'll come to terms with missing what we could have been.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Mia Bella Somniator
Poesía"I write because you exists" - Micheal Faudet Life is full of misfortunes. But Could it be That all my misfortunes Could actually be Immaculate Misconseptipns? And what of love? With its thorns turned red from my pricked fingers? How do we begi...
