You don't have
to tell the world your story,
How could you blame your heart
if it trembles in utter chaos?
Or how your mind plays its games
at midnight?
Some things never change,
conversations run in your head
casually talking about Shakespeare
while drunk on Bukowski's verses,
Do they know why
you're afraid of what's waiting
a the finish line?
Some things never change,
you remember how silence
breaks your fingers
out of boredom
because people don't speak their minds
anymore
But it's okay,
that's how you learn
to read between the lines.
© Amsterdam
02.19.26
A