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These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

Vesmir

We are what this world refuse to carry. So we carry ourselves so we carry ourselves so we carry ourselves.
VESMIR

Carry Myself Refuse World
She is the old school hard love, your modern brittle love can’t afford to carry.
VESMIR

Afford Brittle Carry Hard Herself Love Modern Old One Liner School
It’s not sad/ that you choose/ to keep yourself in/ its a pity/ that even when you could/ you never decided/ to walk out.
VESMIR

Decide Pity Sad Walk Weak Yourself
Something in me is constantly at unrest.
VESMIR

Constant Myself One Liner Rest
Too much of what I write takes me back to you.
VESMIR

Back Myself Past Write Yourself
I want to know the 2 am you because my love we all are different when we are at war under the sun.
VESMIR

Different Love Sun War Yourself
Those that are drunk in love, shall forever talk to the moon.
VESMIR

Drunk Forever Love Moon Talk
If not love, then we have to survive it.
VESMIR

Love Survive
For once I wanna look back and not sigh.
VESMIR

Life Myself Once Sigh
All this sadness longs to be touched.
VESMIR

Sad Touch
But fear is love that has been convinced that it never belonged.
VESMIR

Belong Convince Deep Fear Love One Liner
You out of all, have a hand to hold.
VESMIR

Hands Independence Yourself
Hope has never looked the same twice. Pain has never looked the same twice. Love has never looked the same twice.
VESMIR

Hope Look Love Pain Twice
And nothing that will be touched, even with the tiniest of love, shall continue to live the same.
VESMIR

Live Love Touch
I am not home for somebody else’s trauma.
VESMIR

Home Myself Trauma
Even if you look for peace in the places you won the war, you will not find any.
VESMIR

Battle Deep Look Peace War Yourself

These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

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These poets and their metaphors lied to me/ you never felt like a mountain I wished to climb/ or a stream I would let myself float in/ or a scent I was dying to bottle in/ these poets lie when they talk of love.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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