Grandeur Of Melancholy

16,534 poems read

Somewhere Better

You speak of her anymore.
Only in hushed whispers.
Little plastic heart cases.

You talk to him at least.
Only in paraphrasing.
Little heart beats.

You start to move love 
as if something that is
only a word in a mouth.

Our eyes closed
our worlds entwine,
when me and you

somewhere better.