Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
16h
when i saw the wind blow your eyes
i forgot what buildings are for
how rooms could collapse when you speak
oh what a thin metaphor
but god it fit
like smoke fits in a throat it doesn't belong in
like how longing fits best in the mouth of
who'll never ever say it
you should blame it
on fate
Written by
doma  17/M
(17/M)   
20
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems