Feb 2019
Red
When he left for good that night,
I cried myself to sleep
and woke up without him.
In his place,
tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
I rid of her,
limb for limb,
tore her in two and stole a piece of her...
all to myself.
Her insides bled
from their newly bloomed.
When he left for good that night,
I cried myself to sleep
and woke up without him.
In his place,
tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
I rid of her,
limb for limb,
tore her in two and stole a piece of her...
all to myself.
Her insides bled
from their newly bloomed.
I'm trying my hand at a poetry chapbook called "Wilted". Each poem will go off of a color in the girl's perspective and then the next one will have a picture of a wilting flower the match the color (i.e the boys perspective). This is just one of many parts.
