Finding My Stories
Finding my Stories After meeting you, I want to ask Where I lost myself.... I use to write my own story, About myself, about what I am. But now my pen and my stories become slaves, slaves of your eyes, slaves of your smile, slave of you and all your belongings. When I try to write a story but it becomes poem at the end of your, it like fingers are mine, the pen is mine but, my mind and the control of the pen becomes your.... Somewhere I lost myself, Somewhere I lost my Stories and poems. But you know, My heart and My pen find a different type of satisfaction, by losing myself into you. And I really want to lose my story and become a poem of you. Being a poem, who is beautiful and more beautiful her meaning. My pen, My finger but My Heart and the controls are your. And I am in progress to finding my story but, May be somewhere I founded your poem. I lost My Story.... I lost My Story.... I lost My Story.... I los...