You found me awake but asleep on the bathroom floor.
Strung out.
Blood filling the tub with bright red.
The sinks over flowing causing an ocean to form
From head to toe.
I was breathing just fine sunken under
Because my brain has already deteriorated to nothing.
And my bones are like chalk.
Write a sentence about
why the willow tree looked so sad.
You said that it's hard to keep your head up in a constant down pour, which I didn't understand until now.
And Sometimes I wonder if your touch is merely my Imagination pulling a facade on me.
But when I look down there's a hand print that screams your name in my face.
Screams words of false hope that I know already.
I'll fold myself into a square.
Place this figure in a box unknown and burry it 6 feet under.
A place to hide away from the rain.