When The Pretty Things CallA Poem by Nimfle
I do not remember when
That part is all too blurry for me to begin at All I remember is the suddenness The eruption of emotions Too strong and alien That forced me along the current. Then I hated you for being you Too big for the clothes you wanted Nails on a chalkboard when you sang I despised you more when you cried. You grew sullen in your soul Something like a blindfold on your eyes One by one, beautiful strangers came I led them lead the way. You stubbed your toes Banged your head Hurt your heart But beautiful people came And they led the way. Then the blindfold fell off We saw the wounds The trickling path of dried up blood The silence inside our soul. Then the glittering broken things Once more came But we shook our hands away. Holding on to you I cried and cried. I wish I could fix Or Go back in time And make me understand. The clothes had grown too small For who we were becoming Nails on a chalkboard when you sang For the voice was kept inside For us and us alone. What would have been like If I loved you more when you cried, Turned us away from the pretty broken things And held your hands and led us along. With all the wounds and scabs I decided to love you more Holding on to our truth We brave it through Like everyone else here. Even when the pretty things call We know not to answer Tempting as it is To be someone else other than... We know not to answer When the pretty things call. © 2018 Nimfle |
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Added on November 1, 2018 Last Updated on November 1, 2018 AuthorNimfleAboutAn Unsophisticated student who loves reading, writing and watching horror movies. Other activites include fist (paw?) fight with an overweight lhasa apso and turning religious during deadline rushes. .. more..Writing
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