With every digit the value decreases by
I feel just a little bit happier.
Every morning when I wake up dehydrated with an empty stomach
I always feel the prettiest.
Every skipped meal, every glass finished over food
I feel satisfied with myself
As my hair begins to fall out, now damaged and frail
I see a new woman, beautiful and strong
But that won't cut it, not until I'm withering, like a spec of dust in the breeze. Only then will I feel truly joyful.
YOU ARE READING
Journey
PoetryA poetry book written my me, as I heal from traumas, breakups, ed's, depression, family problems and pretty much everything else that someone in a midlife crisis deals with. There will be parts that are just me speaking directly to you in a bibliog...
