in a room filled with old stuff, i found me longing for something that can't easily be with me.
these core of the past are haunting me, it's never my fault that i was filled with the opposite of darkness in may.
i was living life that i forgot, there's also the draining days.
i wish i could wipe those moments away from my memory to bring him back again.
i wish i never met you, i wish i never let you in.
happiness can't familiarize my soul in this era of realities.
i was left alone again in the dark after being in the lightest light.
i'm just here, slowly dying from these three stages of grief.
YOU ARE READING
Desperate Nightmares, Old Habits Die: Prose and Poetry
Poetryi live in a poetic life but dying from your poisonous lies. we live in vain, so we drink until we get drunk in our own mistakes and sins. but still making out with the devils, but in the back of my mind, i'm with you - haunting me stunningly.
