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May 2014
I left my soul in a hospital room. I left her swaying to the rhythm of a failing heart, of a flat line, of sloppy β€œI’m sorry”s, and final goodbyes. I left her. I left my soul in a hurricane. I left her singing with the rhythm of the wind. I left her drowning, swimming, sinking, grasping, clinging. I left her empty with shattered windows, boarded up, and breaking down. I left her. I left my soul somewhere between "I meant it" and "I'm sorry." I was just wondering if you could return her soon.
Written by
Sydney  Delaware, USA
(Delaware, USA)   
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