With A Sheet In My Hand Read Count : 114

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A
I sit for hours with a sheet 
In my hand - writing nothing, 
While my thoughts run 
Through memories, giving time back. 

 I sit for hours
 Without talking to anyone, 
While my tongue runs
 Conversations with you, 
Loving them all.  

I would snatch 
From my chest your warm hug.  
I would snatch your pores from my skin
 And return to a normal life.

But there is no life where you are not, 
Before I did not know that you exist
 Outside the pen with which I write. 
 
...But you exist and you are not made for me,
I sit for hours with a sheet in my hand,
Writing stories about you that I can't live,
While my tongue runs conversations with you, 
Hating them now.

Comments

  • Nov 23, 2021

  • Nov 23, 2021

  • Well done.

    Nov 23, 2021

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