Come to my house one day
Sit in my room
And look at every single thing
Lying on the bookshelf
Books and diaries
Pictures on the table
And withered flowers in a vase
Will tell you
Cassette in drawer
Cards on the walls
Will reveal to you
How my dreams saw your dreams
Come to my house one day if you can
Letters carved on the walls
And the restlessness on the bed will show you
How my desires have longed for you
And how my dreams have seen your dreams
Come to my house one day if you can.
About the Creator
ishfaq hussain
Poetry is a type of literature based on the interplay of words and rhythm. In poetry, words are strung together to form sounds, images, and ideas that might be too complex or abstract to describe directly.
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The Sound That Carries Me
When I lie in bed, the train always finds me. The wheels slam against the tracks, loud and unforgiving, like something inside me that never learned how to rest. The horn cuts through the dark in broken intervals. Too close, too real, impossible to ignore. It drags me back to the fields of my childhood. Back when I thought life was simple. It wasn't. I just didn't have the language for how heavy it already felt. I was small, trying to survive things I didn't know how to name yet.
By Sarai Jakubczak2 days ago in Poets
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