Published September 21, 2012
See how I move
So rigid and crooked.
These hands you once held,
Have lost their gentleness.
Outside this mind
This figure looks just the same.
Pieces of puzzles I make out with your words
Place them all together
But the edges are twisted;
Damaged pieces I’m certain that they’ll fit.
And you stayed to help me
But as the clocked ticked
You took your leave.
Stuck in the same misshapen figure
I sat alone
No color, no touch, no affection whatsoever
Gray's and blacks that torture my eyes
But my heart tells me to go on.
So I go on, fixing the pieces
Like thorns they cut in between my fingers
My knee’s are beaten
From kneeling down to you
From looking for our pieces.
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142,265 Literary Works • 677,103 Reviews
This could be my favorite poem on YWS haha
that's very sweet, thank you
An intriguing poem, this. There was only one error I spotted- if such it is.
Otherwise, a sound piece of work. Keep writing.