The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
My hand touched yours
And a spark bit me.
My hand touched yours
And I held it tight and pulled you close.
My mind has its morality,
But the body has a mind of it’s own.
And that mind usually does what makes me feel good.
I hold you close
And you try to resist
Like a poor man afraid to sleep on a soft bed
Fearing he will sleep too long,
Like the lips too afraid to kiss,
Fearing it does not know how.
My hand touched yours
And a spark bit me.
Now there is a scar
Too deep to heal on it’s own.
Now there is a scar
That can only be covered by what bit it.
But you won’t come
And I sit here looking at the scar
Weeping,
Reminding me of my incompleteness
Without you.
Comments
Post a Comment