A Poem For Nobody
Poetry
Published in
6 days ago
No, I’m not okay.
No, I’m not fine.
How can I be all those things with you on the line?
When the gun is mine but the bullet is yours?
When I say I’m fine, in my eyes it shows.
When my hands are tied by the strings you hold,
When through the silent crowds, as a monster I arose.
When I’m the moth to your flame,
But to you, it’s always just a game.
When your cold breeze blows the flame;
Just for me to light it again,
And redraw the stars around your name.
‘Cause in the writer’s story we had just kissed.
With the sky and the roses and my cheeks turning pink;
But what happens if the story’s unfinished
And the writer runs out of ink?
