Mondays are a drain they are dementors they feel like an anvil they taste like recovery and exhaustion like your neck isnt strong enough and your brain is rebooting i am constantly troubleshooting at life looking for a solution to make getting out of bed easier
Every Star In The Sky Makes Me Thinks Of You, You Broke My Heart Into Uncountable Pieces, String The Broken Pieces Together, We Dream Together, Fly Together To The Sky, But You'll Love Me At Once....
The emotions Come to life And you feel Everything All over again Tears resurface Anger bubbles over All that **** Comes back Into existence When all you wanted Was for it To go away Forever
That's why You wrote the poem You wanted All the **** Gone Banished But writing it Makes it real All over again
Maybe that's Why people Don't write anymore Maybe that's Why people Stop feeling things Then they Don't have To feel them Again
"Don't you want to make it work?" I asked Tears in my eyes Begging you to stay Clutching your hand In desperation My heart quivering Fearing the answer You might give
Nothing ever hurt me As much as you saying No You didn't You were done
The cold swept in And took me away Far far From you Because next to you I was getting Frost bite
No poem came to me this morning as I walked for an hour in the snowmelt mist threading my boots through the brown salt muck and flotsam winter's junk food wrappers the city just stared at its own face in the ice as uninspired as me
