I had to keep telling myself,
"You're too good for this."
I'd look into the mirror and say,
"Goodbye, you've been a good friend."
But I never got to see
what it was that I was looking at.
My eyes were always closed.
I went to bed. I woke up. I went to bed. I woke up. I went to bed. I woke up.
The days were so brittle and strange that at times it felt like my lungs had forgotten how to breathe and my heart had forgotten how to beat. And yet somehow we managed to go on—we kept on breathing and our hearts kept beating...just barely...barely...
And then one day it was over, just like that. We looked around ourselves and realized we were in Hell; or that this was what Hell must look like, because none of us had ever imagined anything so horrible could be real—not even in our worst nightmares.
YOU ARE READING
Poems about Toxic Women and Suicide.
PoesíaThis book of poems and stories and letters are about love A coincidence, a curse, a legend and a break up. In the beginning there is a girl who is starting to fall in love with a boy. And there was another girl who loved him too. Unexpectedly they a...
