Learn more about other poetry terms
I used to watch mesmerized as your penical flew across the paper. As your hands flinted here and there Creating a picture, a face, a hand, a place Where I was me and you were you where we could be free
White. White walls, White floors, White ceilings. A splash of red. My anger. My regret. My longing to forget. Black. Black ink. Black thoughts. Our colour Blue
For Curt. His eyes were an offset blue, Identical to the unyielding forces of the tempestuous sea and the churning influence of the clouds. Or were they an unpolished silver,
I remember those things so well In my mind forever Reliving it is complete hell Forgetting would be better
The slightest glimpse of his beautiful face, The allusion of his angel like voice, Could send me to such a magical place. Being in his presence make me rejoice. When it’s just him and I being silent:
"For the longest time I didn't think you broke me.
Some days I wish I would've never met you. Never have fallen for that smile, For that laugh, For those eyes. Some days I wish we could start again. From day one,