The duration of time we speak of as days
is just our stories breaking and bleeding
from moment to another.
The fragments of our memories
are just bookmarks to a pages
with words that has been long erased.
And all that we are left with
are threads of time suspended in our eyes,
that really isn’t here
and yet it is the only thing we have
and the only thing we want.
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Gen X’er chronicles the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment through poetry, creative writing, art, photography, and culture.
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The best part of reading your poem is that I could see reflection of my life in your words. Keep writing Nayana.
Pleased to hear that 🙂 I believe though the specifics of what and hoe is different in everyone’s life , but at some time we all feel the same things. Glad you could relate with my poem 🙂
Thanks a lot :):D