Waiting for someone who can see,
The darkness inside me,
Someone who can overlook,
The beautiful covers of the senseless books.
Waiting for someone who can smell,
The scent of the stories I'm wishing to tell,
And fall in love with the way,
My poetry articulates every word it says.
Waiting for someone who can drive,
On the  long, rusty path in which I'm struggling to survive,
Despite the  speed breakers, the stones,
And the past which haunts me alone.
Waiting for someone who can withstand,
My dreadful secrets as they slip from my fingers like sand,
Who knows that prettiness is not in the face but in the heart,
And love me for who I am; even from miles apart.
~*~
{Waiting for someone who can love me like I love poetry. }
18th of January, '18
6:32 pm
~*~