The first time
I died
The second time
I cried
The difference?
There's not one
Because the damage
Can't be undone
The first time
I loved
The second time
I loved
The difference?
There's not one;
both times
I lost one.
Hope is not lost
But I definitely am
So don't look for me
Where light turns to sand
Only one difference thrives
In my cold scourn hands,
And that the first time
Was the last time
I should have
ever loved again.
YOU ARE READING
The Ashes of My Eyes
PoetryShort collection of nineteen original poems of pain, thoughts, and life lemons. This was my very first collection that I hold dear to my heart, written during some of the most depressing years of my life. These were created when I was fifteen and I...
