A new year means a new start. A new me.
Ah... But that's the problem I don't want to be me. A new beginning, beginning anew sounds scary. Especially if I'm still here clutching to the past because everything has moved as always, too quickly.
While you drink effervescent champagne bubbling on your lips, I'll grab my blade and glide it along my wrists.
Funny how the new year doesn't feel so different.
YOU ARE READING
Undone
PoetryA hodgepodge of topics that mostly deal with mental health written as poems or prose.
