I miss the quiet times when it’s just us two sitting in a black space of emptiness, yet I ended it.
Bathed in the daylight I can’t appreciate anymore.
Sleeping in the cold floorboards with your winter touch clinging to my brittle skin, your whispers that make my ears bleed, it’s making me insane
I wished you told me how it felt to love, but I shattered your heart into pieces and it’s hard to pick them up without bleeding.
I’ve been seeing your face lurking in the abyss. You were the regret I can’t seem to run away, a memory I can’t erase, I was a prisoner with no chance of escaping your frigid grasp.
It’s been loud since you’re always with me.
I guess we both can’t let go.
I’m stuck with the burden of my guilt.
And you’re stuck with me.
The quiet times are when the loudest things happen.
-
Author:
Cherry Blossom (
Offline)
- Published: September 19th, 2023 07:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.