So, so tired she says.
Her eyes are half closed and she's barely breathing as well.
So, so tired she says.
She can't do this anymore.
Her skin is pale, her lips are chapped
and she is letting go of what was holding her back.
No more sadness,
no more heartache.
Almost seems to good to be true.
Almost seems fake.
Goodbye she whispers, but no one hears
since no one is listening.
And no one notices as she slowly let's go.
YOU ARE READING
Poems for The Boredom
PoetryThese are a collection of poems which I have created when I have been relatively bored.