When everyone follows their separate ways
You're left with strange people in God-forsaken alleyways
The crisp air is only disturbed by the smoke
When you look at the sky you can't see the stars anymore
The sun is setting low
It's always easier to pretend when its light is gone
Goosebumps rise to your skin
But where you're feeling colder is from within
You start to walk away
Ignoring the slurry voices calling your name
No matter how far you go
Feeling dismissed, lonely and lost
You never seem to find this safe place
And searching for it is becoming more like a race
Your breath comes in pants and you stop
You let yourself slide down the wall
For once you can see the stars
But they don't light your way, only your scars
You bury your face in your arms
And let yourself remember how things used to be once
You think that no one cares but you're wrong
Nights like this you wish you hadn't left home
YOU ARE READING
serendipity
Poetryserendipity; ser·en·dip·i·ty (n.) : finding something good without looking for it. A collection of poems and short stories.
