The week you
died
I ate a
package
of bear claws
of gooey,
cinnamon
almond
pastries
and you couldn't breathe
and you couldn't speak
and you couldn't see me
eating alone
in the dark
Dying isn't romantic
no wings
no music
no angels and
feeling of peace
it's sitting alone
in the dark
your back sweating
eating a dozen donuts.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:10 AM UTC
The week you
died
I ate a
package
of bear claws
of gooey,
cinnamon
almond
pastries
and you couldn't breathe
and you couldn't speak
and you couldn't see me
eating alone
in the dark
Dying isn't romantic
no wings
no music
no angels and
feeling of peace
it's sitting alone
in the dark
your back sweating
eating a dozen donuts.