And like a car crash,
I stood there watching the tragedy.
Looking through my eyes; trapped in my own body. I had front row seats to my own misery.
My breathing had slowed down, I wasn't going to make it this time.
Fingers shaking, heart pumping faster and faster
and than just flat line...
Barely breathing. My chest was a home only to my lungs now.
He'd walked away again.
And he held my heart in his hand.
Maybe this time he'd stay away for good,
just so I could survive.
YOU ARE READING
wilted flower
Poezja•Vol. 1• I am a wilted flower. Nipped at the bud. Dried out by the harsh sun. Never given water. Never given love. Never given a chance to blossom, into the vibrant flower I know I can be. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••...
