Each day, I lost a little more of myself.
There's a rope that hangs around my neck
that gets tighter with every realization
that things are far from getting better.
And I had never told anyone
how hard I fought whenever that rope
dragged me towards the ocean.
It's like fighting the urge to come home
and staying up more in hopes of
seeing the sunrise-the sunrise
that I had last seen when I was fourteen.
YOU ARE READING
See You On The Other Side
Poetry"Isn't it awful to find love at such a young age and be robbed of it for the rest of your life?" This is a collection of poetry and prose dedicated to every person who couldn't find a way to move forward from their past. To every person who loved so...
