Defenseless on the ground I lay.
Tonight I won't stare for so long at the paint in the corner,peeling off,as I was extricated from your flesh and bone..
Preciously guarded adolescent secrets,questions,
the fragrance of hatred seemed to wear off,slowly..as I never ran to you as I wanted to-
and inhale the warmth of the free end of your sharee..
that I longed for like the yellow gates of an unknown building.
Again I sailed past the busy streets,
-a vagrant,as the sordidness around troubled and throbbed with the city lights.
It was savage enough to have drawn an old scar..
I wonder if it will be loved enough,again-,I wonder
if it will have enough sunshine.
you could have told me stories,instead of fabricating such an ugly
web of moments..
I could have remained a mere mound of flesh,a lost fairytale,a hundred-year dream,
a never-to-be uttered August fable.
I could have.
3 comments:
sometimes...we just have to make our own stories...coz there is so much that we expect and want from that one person who you can truly say belongs to you....yet with time and sometimes fate even that person seems to get distant....that person shall never understand somethings and we must stop hurting ourselves by expecting them to.....hide in your own stories my friend....they shall be prettier than anybody else's....love you...
=)
Ki nice :)
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