Now I go to sleep.
To relax and to breathe.
Breathe the water that I'm drowning in,
Breathe the fear the holds me tight,
Breathe the memories that are with lock and key.
Staring at the walls,
My friends comes to visit.
Alone brings empty.
Lost brings tired.
Sad brings broken.
It's a hell of a reunion.
The music that plays
Are the memories on loop.
The drinks taken
Are the tears from leaky house.
The foods devored
Are the broken peices of the heavy heart.
Every night.
The same routine.
Rewind.
Play.
Rewind.
Play.
It hardly gets better.
It most likely gets worse.
When will the police be called?
When will they scatter away?
When will the fence be built
To deny acces to their games?
Who knows?
Who cares?
Cause I can tell you know,
Without them,
who knows how to act?
YOU ARE READING
Telling's from the heart
PoetrySo here are a collection of poems inspired by stories whispered or stories told. Here are to those going through tough times and to get better. Here are to those that are at their peak and to keep up their good work. ***PLEASE IGNORE THE LETTERS THA...
