Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
Every time I turn they hit me again
and it hurts because
I can't breathe
or sleep
or think
or smirk
or frown
or talk
or cry,
without thinking
about those
vacuous memories
we made
that have woven
their way
into my
godforsaken
heart.
Monotone
Written by
Monotone  22/Non-binary/Wisconsin, USA
(22/Non-binary/Wisconsin, USA)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems