A poem when you got it bad. And lost it even worse. Featuring iambic tetrameter
A poem based on a folkloric Spanish song about a bull that fell in love with the moon.
ou choose gray over blue, why do you then paint every picture with my shade? If you’ve only bathed in shallow waters, why do you mock the depth of the ocean?
Still, your sweet eyes swell with salty seeds of shame.
Reach within my heart and rip apart the fibers.
Until your cold fingers grasp a piece of truth.
Hey, You. Out there in your head, Getting lonely in your stead. Can you hear me? Hey, you. Against the quiet room, Writing stories as