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Jul 2020 · 41
Black
Leah Ruston Jul 2020
Black, recently it’s black.
I walk, I talk, I laugh,
But when it’s dark the black always comes back.
Only the black hears my cries,
Because the last time I saw light was when the sun would rise.
Now it just appears,
Sneaks up on me at night.
Because I can’t sleep, or I sleep too much.
Proportionally incorrect and the moon doesn’t sit right.

My laughs are fake,
But I can’t even cry anymore,
So I’ll try and plaster on another smile and hope that tomorrow it won’t ache.
I’ll hope tomorrow I’ll smile when I look into my baby brothers eyes,
But smiling seems like a million miles away when all your laughs are lies.

Not miles away,
Just a completely different place.
A place where I don’t have to worry of the expression being expressed on my own face.

— The End —