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ana_vega222
• 138 reads

hands on a haunted clock

they never tell you how a heart breaks,

the way the blood starts dripping down.

because if I’d have known the pain,

i would never had stayed around. 

I see the parts of you too often,

in someone’s smile or the way they talk,

and my thoughts come back to you,

like hands on a midnight clock.

you see, I think I hear your voice,

behind every corner that I turn, 

so you can imagine the shattering pieces,

when it’s your laugh i beg to unlearn.

they never tell you how a heart breaks,

the way my heart starts beating blue

suffocated by my swollen fingers,

which held on so tight to you. 

I ran to distant corners,

to forget our fantazised dreams,

but now I see them in hollow mirrors,

and hear your whispers as ehoing screams.

it brought me to my knees,

when I passed a stranger along the way,

who smelled of your faint whiskey,

putting our favorite songs on replay.

they never tell you how a heart breaks,

or how its dies alone,

forgotten by past heartaches,

with no one to call it’s own.

So i guess that was a lie, 

because if I got to chose once more,

I’d choose you a hundred times,

to fix the heart you tore.

But here I am now,

in this strange and unknown land,

and I wish on the stars for you,

for one last adventure to go unplanned. 

so I hope you think of me,

and see me in everything you do

I think we’re stuck in a twisted mirror

because everywhere I look, there’s you.

#prose #poetry #poet

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