We haven't met before
At least not face to face
I found you weaving
the sad strings in my chest
With the exact words
My lips had forgotten how to say.
He stole my song
But you understand what's going on
I found you in between
the pages of a screen
Writing poetry
that could have come from me.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
We haven't met before
At least not face to face
I found you weaving
the sad strings in my chest
With the exact words
My lips had forgotten how to say.
He stole my song
But you understand what's going on
I found you in between
the pages of a screen
Writing poetry
that could have come from me.
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