Nights are the hardest
Going through the motions of routine
There's always something missing
It's not as obvious during the day
Never had you to myself then
The cool air is like a distant memory
Present when alone
Insistent of the recollection
Nights with you far off
One vector nearer than the other
Attention paid or not it pulls
Frantically searching for what was lost
A sickness of heart
Disaster of mind
But it's coming
YOU ARE READING
Who I Am
PuisiCollection of poems that speak to the human experience. Love, heartache, bullying, writing, find the record of the event here! Embrace what you know, leave preconceived notions at the door and unwind with Who I Am.
