Her working days were a falsehood, a wild exaggeration of her wrapping herself in her blanket and letting the laziness, the dread, the fear, and the sadness take over. And she knows it.
Her perfect routine was falling in on her, a staggering pace that always turned up in the undoing of her crumbling mind.
She was the romancer.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Into The Void
Poetry#1 in poetry :) #1 in free verse :) Have you ever felt like it was the end? Like today was just a bad day? That no matter how many times you believe that something can happen that it just might not? That no one gives a damn at all? That all you do...
