I want to write your name
not on sheets of paper
not on a canvas was my aim
but to a cemented tablet, layered.
You've tortured my emotions
manipulated my vulnerability
'caused me trauma,
till your name stocked on my memory.
You've said words that aren't nice
curse and shut my mouth too,
though that was just once
but it scarred my soul because of you.
I want to read your name again and again
smile and spit on your grave at the yard
bury your tomb after the wake
and crush your remains after a day.
YOU ARE READING
Diary of an Introvert
PoetrySecond book of the The Dorks Are Shining. A poetry and some random thoughts filed to create a meaningful reflection of what society really is and how does life work.
