Hours away from me, the plane I can't seem to catch. The house I haven't visited yet, in a country so familiar yet so foreign. The circumstances that stole you away from me stand as a barrier preventing me from saying your name, for every time I try uttering it I feel my throat tighten.
I don't wish to cry, I only wince slightly at the flashbacks I replay in my head. I ask myself questions but I'm too scared of the answer; are you happier there? is someone else being your rock, support system, and shadow? was I replaceable?
I curse social media, when my phone flashes with an alert of another carefree picture you posted, and I get upset thinking about how I was once behind the camera. I was always involved in every memory.
Now, I only sit and watch another world take you away from me, keeping track of your life through pictures.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Torture.
PoezjaCollection of poems and pieces written about daily struggles and tackling big world problems from the eyes of a teenager. Warning: Some chapters might be triggering. Triggers include: Suicide Eating disorder Self harm
