where d'you think you're going

my lungs cried out,
my skin has dried in my own salt,
my dreams transpired hope,
hope colored the words,
words have exposed my feelings,
forgetting to transform them
(in facts)
that's how you became a poetry,
for forever, — immortal,
since forever, — mine
so, in tandem with all that, —
where d'you think you're going
when you're stuck here, —

through my mind,
through my soul,
on my lips,
through my eyes,
in my dreams,
through my hopes,
through my feelings,
in my guts,
through my words,
avidly sipping
my moods' ambiance


πŸ“œπŸ„― CMP (aka) Coco 

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