The curtains are drawn.
I wouldn’t want anyone to see me sleeping past one for the fourth time his week.
The sun peaks through the broken half of the blinds.
A sliver of light shines across my face,
as I shield my head with a comforter.
My body is heavy and my heart’s the same.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 12:09 AM UTC
