13 lines, 10 beats per
It was a cold night, my feet having crept
up to her calves. It was after we had
settled the dispute of iced feet locale
that she added, “Every time I think I’m
falling for someone, I just scratch this scar
on my neck and think- This is what he’ll do
to your heart. It doesn’t work very well,
but the least I can say is that it helps.”
The night shone through her open window shades,
and I promised I’d never be afraid
to give someone the power to break my
heart. It is a few years later, and I
am laying in bed, scratching at my neck.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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