I know how to love hard, but somehow never quite the right way.
I knew how to touch you, but didn’t have the right words to say.
My love gaped distance but not enough to sway.
You’ve created something in me...And I want it to stay.
Tell me what you need and I promise I’m enough.
Even when the past makes the gift of our present seem too tough.
When I tell you I love you, you smile and rebuff:
“Whatever,” and I know in your past, it’s because love’s been rough.
About the Creator
Sherad Maneeram
I observe. I write. I never sleep through the night.
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Silence
I don’t remember the day the world ended. But I do remember the day I noticed. That photo was it, but I did not know what it meant until I sat in my darkened bathroom, staring at the newly developed film. The street was neither empty, nor abandoned. It was dead. The colours of the flowers wrapped in that red ribbon caught my eye, and as I crouched to take that photo, I could hear only the lonely silence of a graveyard after dark.
By Alexander McEvoy6 days ago in Fiction
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