literature

You write love songs

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Literature Text

With numb fingers, you strum the melody that's
Stuck in your head like a broken record.
You pray to the heavens to keep you grounded,
You have yet to find that special something.
Believing your heart is made of paper-
Easily broken.
Shredded into a million pieces and
spread out upon the earth.
Searching for years,
Missing that one tiny piece
To make yourself whole again.
But you tap
And you hum,
And you dance to the beat
Of that song stuck on repeat
Inside your head-
Mismatched lyrics
From the paper heart
You hold in your hand.
Napowrimo 2011, #11

April 11, 2011
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luigiriot's avatar
This is really good!