3am
Not a word
3pm
The only noises the sounds of children and parents upstairs.
I lay alone on my bed,
Static dancing around my head,
Silence crushing me.
There's a breeze from my broken window pane,
The breathes of a solitary canine in my ear,
The sounds of a rodent rustling outdoors.
The hum of a fridge.
And the silence of my tears slipping down my cheeks.
Radio silence.
There's nothing and no one left.
(I know this is crappy, nobody reads it anyway, let me have my angst.)
YOU ARE READING
The More I Try to Forget, the More That I Remember
PoesíaPoetry for the Soul. All pictures are taken and edited by me, unless otherwise credited. All writings are my own works, and if used, must be properly credited.
