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Darling,
I heard your voice,
softly,
slowly,
like mere whispers in the night.
they told me this isn't real,
that you aren't real.
but how do I tell them
that I feel you all around,
when I am at my happiest,
and when I am on the lowest of grounds?
they don't trust me,
they tell me that the whispers are
my imagination during the night
among the stars,
where you reside.
But darling,
The moonlight
That's what tells me
That maybe you are real,
And so I don't believe them.
But yesterday,
I didn't hear those whispers.
Tell me, darling,
Are those rogues scaring you?
Or are you just tired of me?
Because I beg you,
Don't leave me now that
the whispers have stopped
because I have started hearing voices around and
they are not yours,
but they are not theirs' either
and now I wonder,
were those whispers never real?
because they were in the night darling,
and the night and its moonlight are known to betray.
So today,
I sit by the window at night and asked myself,
"Is this what it feels like to be betrayed?
By the night sky,
By the moon and its moonlight,
And by the own voice in your head?"
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-about-
written: april 26, 2021
I usually create many people and scenarios inside my head, and I suppose this poem is the result of that. I've not been betrayed by anyone though, other than the voices in my head of course.
-anyways, thanks for reading, people! do vote and comment if you liked it-
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YOU ARE READING
paracosm-delusional nightmares
Poetry{poetry : completed} "𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞." in a tiny corner of the world, but in the vast corner of my imagination, this is my paracosmic delusion, something that i've created out of indignant, d...
