Creative,  Writing

Untitled

I want to be a place when you come without knowing the way back

I want to be a tree that tries not to fall despite being hit by a storm of wind

If you know, hopefully my message is delivered by the wind and reaches your lap

Sometimes, your silence is both horrible and longing

Sometimes the short words comes from your mouth very sharpen and very warm

You actually escape from my sight, but always feels in my heart

How to refuse to remember you

How to try to survive from you

Your eyes on me?

Maybe not me!

refused, denying only further added injuries

Waiting that never ends

Feelings that begin to strengthen in my heart

In the end, hopefully in time there is still myself, yourself or even ourself.

 

dewinta

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