Every stroke of the keys Every curl of the pen Reminders of what might have been This life, this heart, this voice May be caged in silence Until the spark rises to become a fire Until the pen proves itself mightier When love remains an improbable song These fingers, they will write on When this…
Tag: Poetry
“Sink”
It doesn’t matter If I rise above the defeat Love still drags me down And my heart bleeds More than it beats
Letters
I should have known I used too many words When three would have been enough
Waves
Upon my lips I tasted The salt of the sea And imagined how similar Your skin would be May 2016