It’s there,
Where water meets fire,
Where lightings strikes the ground.
That’s where my heartbeat goes.
My chest feels like it was filled
With tampered strings.
Once so sharp and precise,
Now dull and inconsistent.
Mother always asks where my love is.
I tell her it hasn’t moved in years.
Her dumbfound look
Meets my half smile.
How do I lie to a broken mirror?
Where even my reflection is fake.
How do I mute the cannon fire,
Deep within my chest?
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
It’s there,
Where water meets fire,
Where lightings strikes the ground.
That’s where my heartbeat goes.
My chest feels like it was filled
With tampered strings.
Once so sharp and precise,
Now dull and inconsistent.
Mother always asks where my love is.
I tell her it hasn’t moved in years.
Her dumbfound look
Meets my half smile.
How do I lie to a broken mirror?
Where even my reflection is fake.
How do I mute the cannon fire,
Deep within my chest?
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