la la land

rusted door opened to butterflies and bones
vines paint the walls, pallid mushrooms
photos of you and i from that december
dust collected on your violin and the dying ember

hums from the kitchen, smell of boiling tea
this the land where your heart gets to live
my kisses brushing you where your cat scraped
me on the counter, you in my shirt- enamored

let's bake bread, humming your favourite tune
let's mold a pot, wet hands glued together
let's go on a drive, our laughs intertwined
let's make a home, stitching our hearts together

the walls still murmur the words i never spoke
if i did, perhaps my hollow heart would've echoed
maybe then this wouldn't be a house but a home
a home where you wouldn't be a lingering thought but vows engraved in my bones

Author's Note

This poem came from a thought i had. If years later, i could open a door that'd lead me to a world where i live the road not taken, the life where i had the courage to say words I don't have in this life..Then this would be my lala land, the unlived life behind closed doors.

Reviews

[Beren]

I think this is my favorite from you. Words are carefully chosen, and you used them in the best way. To be honest, this is the kinda poems I want to write. Your poems has a candy taste somehow, yk what I mean? I adore. Seriously.

GIRL YOU ARE SO GOOD❤️ I rarely think to someone else's Poem that "I should've wrote that" and this is definitely one of them.