There’s no space in my head
Just echoes of violent thoughts
Sharpening dents in my heart
Close captioning my feelings
In a display of sweet memories.
It harrows me with silence
After being marooned at the fence
Writing on my palms and laps
As if all pages of conversational love
Are scrapped off the binding,
I have lost a kilo of my eyelashes
Waiting for the king’s affirmation
I need to vent
In a two-being tent
I lost my wings when looking for
The meaning of silence,
I stopped feeling butterflies at the camp,
Count me out but in case you come out
You can trace my footsteps in the air
My soul still floats right there in the stories
Of two.
About the Author
