poems to myself ✔️

poem 78

Tick tock goes the clock. The clock strikes twelve. But her haunted thoughts remain. A shadow of her former self, she is. The flower she once was has wilted. The clock dings, another hour goes by. She's angry at the man who made her feel this way. Tequila, tequila, she tries to drink the pain away. Lost memories, and stolen kisses she finds herself remembering. Ding the clock goes again, amongst the time she is still the same. She finds herself tangled in the sheets she lay, not knowing her surroundings. Oops she did it again, lying with another man unknown. With that all, she remains yet again lonely. The man that had captured her heart, had crushed it to pieces. Her image reflects on the pieces, showing the broken girl she is.... -mommamafia