Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2014 · 271
The truth without
Edgar Mirán Feb 2014
All those secrets that you kept,
All entitled to confess
that I loathed before we met,
that I wished for your caress.

All those secrets that you trade,
All those moments I adored,
when I dreamed of us before we fade
and I grasped your hand until we soared.

All those secrets are now gone,
only truth surrounds the wound,
conversations that let on
confrontations till’ we swooned.
Oct 2011 · 590
Found Myself Today
Edgar Mirán Oct 2011
I dance to the beat

That life flings at me.

I am a bit foolish

And suicidal,

But nonetheless

Your grace

Inspires me

To be calm;

And yes,

I confess,

A bit sloppy.

— The End —