coward

old piece. 

perhaps i am a coward

to be scared of parchment of paper

and a journal with a whole lot of empty pages

perhaps I've just been hurt

in ways i thought i couldn't

in ways my pen do not know how to write

in ways i thought were petty but have broken me

in just one single tap on the shoulder. 

perhaps i am pitiful 

like a butterfly with broken wings

and a flightless bird who has forgotten the taste of sky

perhaps i just miss you 

like how the ground waits for rain

after a season of drought

how i miss your voice

when you soothe me

after crying at night

hiding inside a blanket. 

how i miss how it felt

to have a refuge after a raging war

inside and outside my shell.

Perhaps i just miss you 

and i couldn't say

for i am a coward scared of paper.