I was told
by a pair of pity-filled stares
that simmered frantic shock and dared
That I could not have him. I rebelled,
furrowing mutterings of what is fair
while hope suspended me in whirling air,
Picturing
scenes of hush
and quiet laughs.
Ironic, then,
how indifference settled into his expression
and met my joy with sarcastic aggressions.
Ironic, still,
that I catch myself delving
not in the sea-bound winds unravelling
over the coasts of mythical lands,
But in the shape of your hands
on mine.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
I was told
by a pair of pity-filled stares
that simmered frantic shock and dared
That I could not have him. I rebelled,
furrowing mutterings of what is fair
while hope suspended me in whirling air,
Picturing
scenes of hush
and quiet laughs.
Ironic, then,
how indifference settled into his expression
and met my joy with sarcastic aggressions.
Ironic, still,
that I catch myself delving
not in the sea-bound winds unravelling
over the coasts of mythical lands,
But in the shape of your hands
on mine.
