Poetry

not welcome

It’s in that moment
when our eyes locked
and your gaze
doesn’t feel the same
anymore
that I felt shame
for entering
a maze
with no end.
But then again,
I wasn’t welcomed
in the first place.

Advertisements
Standard
Poetry

conceal no more

The invisible cloak 
doesn’t work on me 
anymore. 

I was revealed. 

He doesn’t just pass by; 
now he looks at me in the eye. 

And in that fleeting moment, 
I always make sure 
his gaze will catch mine.

Daily Post’s Fleeting and Conceal

Standard