it was that kind of night that you hear in stories those that describe in detail what a heart break felt like, but not for me i dont know what exactly i was feeling it was over whelming, i didnt know whether to cry or leave maybe it didnt hit me hard yet,maybe im in a state of shock but reading that killed me lingered thru my toughts our last kiss our last fuck it didnt hit me till i got home that when it all came down every emotion ive been trying to push back anger, sorrow, uncontolable crying everything came out with in seconds i felt numb my eyes sting, and theres times that im ok and i zone out forgetting everything but im zapped back to it, its like a never ending haze.
"it had to be done" why the simplicity of that sentence brought me to tears. im full of nicotine and i think i like it that way.
YOU ARE READING
Spilled Ink
Poetrythis isnt a book persay it dose not portray a story but some of the emiotions im going thru as of right now like an personal agenda
