Sometimes it hits me like a bolt
An arrow shot out of some archer's loose grip
When I reminisce
I can't help but flinch
Why are these memories so painful
A searing heat that moves across my brow
My body
Then I reason
Try to make sense
To be my own friend
When I desperately don't need one
- Author: SweetOdodoGrass43 ( Offline)
- Published: April 4th, 2024 19:09
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.