The air in this house is grievous,
And it gets labored and harder hourly.
Keep this poisonous air inside my battered indoors
To hold back a scream and my fury.
Your frame hatred towards you in my conscious,
And my stifled helplessness is killing me.
So I'll leave here my melodies, tears, and my thoughts,
Just like you left your marks on my body in memory.
But unlike you, I'll never forget this wound.
I will leave for a long time, when you will gone.
And when you'll find yourself on 6 feet in the ground,
I'll get used to live with indelible, made by your scars.
No comments yet - ask the poet a question, or leave a supportive note.