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It was Sunday

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It was Sunday
The day I thought I broke the sky
And the watercolor blurred
And the flowers started to whisper

It was Sunday
Not so long ago
When I thought I broke the sea
And my dreams all grew faces
And the clouds started to whisper

It was Sunday
Five years from now
When I thought I broke the skin
And I was sick for months
And the keys started to whisper

It was Sunday
The day I finally broke the door
And heard whispers on the other side
And knew I had to leave.

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MckayThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
yesterday at 7:46 pm:
All I can say, though I wish I had more to say, is that this poem is breath-taking. You are one amazing poet. Lilia, you're just starting on Teenink, and so far in my opinion you're becoming one of the best. I love your work. Palermo, no joke, is on my favorite list. And I'm not the kind to just lick anyone. This is breath-taking. Did I say that before. Oh well. It's true. Continue to write poems like this. Becuase you are god at it. ^u^
LiliaVC replied...
today at 9:32 am :
THANK YOU. You are honestly making my day here. Poetry is actually not my concentration, I want to be a novelist, am in the final stages of editing my first novel, and am looking for an agent. BUT THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE. 
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