I won't forget about last time, I tried to tell my pain, I know I have lots in my mind, And I might carry it all with me, But here and now, I promise, I'd rather die drowning, Than scream for a saviour.
Dear heart, I was to protect you, I taught you to train yourself, To learn to let go, But you didn't want to learn, And now you're bleeding, Bleeding, like you won't stay for too long, I'm sorry, you were not saved successfully.
This time round, I'm done, Done with loving me, Done with self care, And the skin care routine, I'm so done, Buying marbles, And having stones hurled at me.
A poem Isn’t directly Poetry, Yet Poetry shall always take A poem’s form No matter what lips, Eyes, Thoughts Or acts Shall stutter it, In the non-verbal closeness As well, If not even more