***
I have become an obsolete pen
in your drawer,
laying there,
in the murkiest shadows of your room.
Not even a silhouette shall be seen
in the darkness of that scene...
the rust has become me,
it devoured my metallic finish,
and time has forgotten me,
with all the dust I'm covered in.
Incarcerated behind the wood of this drawer,
behind that drawer, a room,
enclosed on itself...
After that room,
freedom...
It is the inception of your thoughts...
I wander around in the beauty of your mind,
trying to reach out to you,
desperate for your attention.
"Love me in your words,
Love me the way you write..."
***
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of Mind
Poetry#66 in poetry 5/11/17 ~~~ Yet something hasn't changed, for I still wished I could pulverize into atoms, and become the air you breathe in... ~~~ From when she made me human...
