PAST

I left poetry when I found my heart in tragedy
I stopped writing because I can't feel anything
My hands were numb, my tears were dry
My smile was weary and my heart was dying

I am still enticed by the beauty of poetry
Because it speaks what is unspoken
It sings the songs that you never heard
It colors the shapes that was never drawn

It is like a world that is full of hidden desires
And it is only between you and the writer
     who can understand the lines
It was supposed to be my secret rendezvous
Not until I let someone enter my door

I let him in and rearranged my messed up life
I thought he is going to lift me up to the cloud nine
But that's the disease of me that will never cure
I fall in love recklessly

When he left, I was shattered into pieces
I never fixed it nor tried to clean it up
I buried my old self and tried to move on

Whenever I try to read a poem, it gives me shivers
Because it reminds me of the past that I will never recover
It gives me the trauma and flashback of unfortunate events
It is more than a regret but a feeling of hatred

And so I am currently trying to find a way to make it through
A way that only I can discover
A way that only I can solve
Because in that world of poetry is I know where I belong

No comments:

Post a Comment