warm honey ▸ poetry

48

I'm sitting in the dark.
My knees are pulled up tight against my chest.
My eyes are puffy, red, barely opening from the countless times I have cried today, staring at my paint-chipped toes.
My heart, oh my poor heart,
she's sad. So sad and so empty.
Beating slow and dull, I'm not sure I'm living anymore.
She's been drained of every ounce of love that she once held.