Momentarily, just permit yourself to bleed, and bleed, and bleed, until there's nothing left to bleed anymore.
Perhaps, time will come, someone's name will no longer brighten your eyes.
Time will come, someone's face will no longer curve your mouth slightly upward.
Time will come, someone's voice will no longer send chimes of melodies to your ears.
Time will come, someone's invisible emanation and the smell of his/her perfume, will no longer make your heart flutters.
Time will come, your engraved memories together, will no longer make you cry over spilled milk.
Time will come, you will sting no more.
Time will come, you'll be healed.
—PrettyMira18
YOU ARE READING
A Poetry of Emotions
PoetryIT'S NOT ABOUT WHAT A WRITER SAYS. IT'S ABOUT HOW A WRITER SAYS IT, TO MAKE A READERS UNDERSTAND IT.
