The more time goes by, the emptier I feel. They told me time would heal my wounds. Why would they lie to me? My blood runs cold as I think of you. Don't even think it qualifies as blood anymore. Pretty sure its 99 percent alcohol. But it makes me feel whole, even if its for a while. Then everything is a blur and I can't even make out your face. The face I spent so much time looking at, memorizing every feature. Now just the thought of that face makes my stomach churn. But im still empty. And this emptiness is killing me faster then you did. I don't get it i can't live with you, and I can't live without you. Guess im just not meant to live at all.
YOU ARE READING
Kalopsia
Poetrykalopsia (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. .................... This is just a book with random poems I've written. Hope you enjoy!
