On the narrow street by the docks,
She walks home alone every night fall.
She looks away to avoid small talks,
And belittles herself by watching other girls dress up like dolls.
"What are you looking at?" His solemn voice called,
She shakes her head and tucks her hair as they walked.
The hurricane of thoughts seem to fade away as she takes his hand,
By the shore as their feet hit the sand.
And in that moment everything is picture perfect,
Their smiles, his laugh, even the hungry blackhole in her heart.
It all fits in her memory like mismatched puzzle pieces,
Permanent like a polaroid along with the playful smirk his bottom lip teases.
Just like that, for a split second she forgets the pain his absence weaved in her head,
Until she's brought back to the musky street that her feet never left.
YOU ARE READING
Tell Tales
PoetryTell tales of time Of song, of rhyme Of fairies, lights and screams. Of nightmares past And broken stars And hearts that glow serene. Of gold and black Of grey and red Of stories told, unread. Of you, of I Or pain and lies Of storytimes that are...
