Every night, I lie in bed
I think about you
And what you said
"This is the last time that I kiss you,
I've got someone else in my head"
I close my eyes and try to get some sleep
Not wanting to even think about it
Hoping one morning
I'll wake up eyes bright lit
Not living anymore to your dead heartbeat
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
PoetryA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
