10 P.M. GMT
"i could almost envision the day
when we would be nothing but
a p u n g e n t m e m o r y
and the us we were
would be as dead as your soul
which you so willingly destroyed
the moment you walked the path of
your own self-destruction
there's no going back
it's only you and those
empty bottles and lit cigarettes
those wretched things
you preferred over me
it's too bad you loved the drug
more than you loved us
now look what you did."
[a/n] this poem is pretty personal to me, i hope you liked it. thanks by the way for your support! i can't believe it, we're down to the sixth day this book has been published! thank you so much for all the reads, votes, and comments!
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Catharsis
Poetryca·thar·sis [kuh-thahr-sis] noun, plural ca·thar·ses [kuh-thahr-seez] 1. the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music. Poetry #62 / Random #130 © Copyrighted, All...
