Muntaha Anwar

  Again, I’m left beat. In my own deadbeat mind.

  Let me be the silence behind your words that needed the space to breathe Let me be the whisper behind your shouts when your jealousy seethes Let me be the rhyme in your poems with the name of his that was beneath Let me be the prayer behind your hopes like a blowing wind between your teeth Let me be the rhythm of your heartbeats with a song buried beneath Let me be the tears behind your anger  lurking quietly underneath Let me be the emotion in your stories dear be my sword and I'll be your sheathe! — w i l l  y o u  l e t  m e ?

I am tired of being told I am loved and cared about but never made to feel that way.