Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2015
Getting rid of reminders, my own thoughts and yours, memories and you.
I keep a tight grip on my eyes and try to rip them off for I see you on painted walls, different shapes of clouds, music and daydreams.
I burry my face in a pillow: "no, that's not your smell. I'm going crazy. I'm losing it"
my tongue burns when I accidentally call someone by your name
my ripcage holds nothing hostage anymore.
I bet this is worse than..
I'm not going to, no.
No, no my sun will hide the clouds
and my coffee will hide the scent
I refuse to bury my face or harm myself
my ripcage can hold songs, blood and smoke.
I will learn to unfeel this
even though you'd be so good to me, you'd unintentionally be very, very dangerous.
Huda
Written by
Huda  29/F
(29/F)   
  770
     ---, Nora, Rosalind Heather Alexander and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems