#WritcoPoemPrompt57
It's also nice to listen to the sound of the waves every spring,
Especially when our hearts are drenched with stings,
Strange as it can be when you cling,
Now I know why you flap your wings,
seeking the feeling of emotional relief when the bees of rejection sting
The pace at which my tears trickle down my eyes are like the voices that sing without a theme
My heart was like a book but it has lost its writings as well as the Ink
Oh blurry Mondays , Oh teary sundays , I've been waiting for those usual check-ins and causerie
I've been played to the asymmetry of fate as my heart begins to sink .
Those sensual nights , he'd love to touch me while I'm on pink ..I miss those things
I thought I lost a thing , at this viselike moment of torment , I've realized he was everything.
© Eric James