It’s been lonely out here
just me and a flower printed on my bedsheet
This is the time of the year when I’m usually sad
maybe more than usual
don’t know whether it’s nostalgia
or something that i haven’t figured out yet
in this moment all i truly have is this
that i can’t smell
but keep pressed under my cheeks
and unending stubborn source of sadness
that lies inside me
Something is wrong
I’m half asleep
other half dreaming a dream to forget next morning
I am peeking through a barely open eyelash
the flower is no more resting with me
it’s drifting away
petal by petal
leaving the smell of sadness
on the abandoned bedsheet
Out of all the sad things that I witnessed
this has to be the worst
lying here alone in the nights
watching something unreal drifting away
leaving me like the real ones
when you can’t plant it back
I wish my bed had a blank bedsheet
with no colours and flowers
so i could paint it on my own
draw flowers with my fingers
that can’t die
Another new poem, guys. Just when I was thinking I’m losing my writing abilities, I posted 2 new posts back to back.
Yeah, I’m not following the specific blogging schedule anymore as I’m reposting everything.
Let’s talk about the poem. Not the poem, but the picture first. It’s the same bedsheet which is inspiration behind this poem. So, how could I not include it’s picture.
Bedsheet deserves it.
What this think of the poem by the way?