You never gave me the chance,
To be worthy of your hellos.
And I have never understood
how I deserved your goodbyes.
Weak are my knees,
bruised and without blessing.
Cruel is your silence,
abundant and deafening.
Pain has become my religion.
I worship at its altar.
I always pray at night.
- the first religion
YOU ARE READING
Pen and Paper: Poetry & Prose (2020)
PoetryWords are bullets. Readers are targets. Come all, the loud and the silent! Dive into this merriment. Hi there! This is my collection of poetry & prose divided into three parts: When she hurts When she heals ...
