don't talk to me
I am weeping under the willow tree
and my tears grow roses
they pierce my skin.
don't talk to me
I am wandering in the fields
and my feet are blistered, sore
my hands are stuttering
begging for warmth
don't talk to me
I am trying to not exist
I have tried to burn with fire
I have tried to fade with the wind
and I keep on failing, pathetically.
don't talk to me
until I open my eyes
don't speak
until salted rains fall
from these skies
Until I become one with the tree
beneath which I wept
and the fields which I trod.
Very kindly,
pretty please
don't talk to me
until I know peace.
0:34
07.01.23
YOU ARE READING
A Diary of Soul (Unedited Version)
PoetryKnow Thyself - Socrates Have you ever felt like a stranger to yourself? Like you're here, but lost? Just another performing mask in a sea of faces? Another wandering being made of dust? • Finding yourself and healing amidst dark moments of life i...
