Untitled
The heart is fantasizing as it beats as if it's racing
and the mind slowly follows the lines as if it's tracing
against a melody no sweeter than his love
that creates a song as peaceful as a dove.
Our hollow chest will be filled with the voices of warmth,
love we yearned for,
dissolving the hated thoughts for which we were concerned for.
Broken fragments of footsteps that turned into a backlash.
We seemed to move on very fast.
But a force pushed upon us that made us stop and wait
and right before our eyes, holding a broken heart, a thing called hate.
You wishing your kisses could heal these scars
as if you're reaching far into my soul with a tongue that never tasted love.
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