I have witnessed the birth of happiness
and the end of innocence.
When one dies, another takes its place.
It's a roll of the dice of what replaces the first.
I take in the pain of a once-loved song skipped,
the partially read book collecting dust,
the collection of blank journals hidden away,
and a stomach stretched from empty binges.
I don't know if I deserve relief from this.
Relief is temporary.
Pain doesn't stop coming back.
No matter how far I run,
how much I write,
how much I love those worthy,
I can't fill in the cracks in my heart.
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
