I remember how I found you, laying there with no life behind your eyes. The way your lips had turned purple and the way the pink of your natural skin had fadden, as if you were an outdoor rug that had been out past its due. I had known that you're long gone and yet I still tried to save you. The fact you had told me you were clean and trying to make something of your life two days before. I remember crying my eyes out as they took you away, I knew you had overdosed. I knew I couldn't have helped you, you had to help yourself. The pictures I had of you are gone, the pain you felt had taken over you. You became too comfortable in your sadness.
YOU ARE READING
Inbetween
PoetryHello, I don't write to inform you or to show you my life story. I write to show that you can move on from the past and let go. The only way you can move on it is to forgive yourself and the people who have hurt your soul. I write for the damaged, t...
