Not really a poem


Sometimes, while I lay in the shadows of the soft shimmering moon, I feel this melancholic blanket descend upon me. As the last glimmers of light leaking from between my blinds fade, so does the sunny disposition of my earlier self. I lose myself to the dreary bleakness of whatever heartbreak I have chosen to ponder tonight. To pour over and scrutinize - to pick at the seams until I myself, am falling apart. Disjointed and dissatisfied. I cry and cry over everything yet absolutely nothing at the same time. I sob for my past loves, and those that never were to be. I mourn missed oppostunities and berate myself over how I always failed to grasp on to them. I tear myself apart over the ones that I held onto so hard and refused to let go of - leaving claw marks - yet in the end they, too, left.

  • Author: lucy-li (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 1st, 2024 13:02
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 5
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