listening to the cries of my
broken down record player
used to be my escape route
from the wrath of piercing words,
of dreadful nightmares, of society's
version of russian's roulette,
but the listening - it now
tears me apart, it breaks my heart
and i am ripped into shards
of shattered glass.
—
" i swear - it's all because of her. "
YOU ARE READING
RECORD PLAYER. POETRY
Poesía❝ ESCAPISM ISN'T FREEDOM. ❞ She drowns along with the haunting cries of his record player. Except the drowning she suffers from never stops, and like the record player, one can only find their self to listen. 2018 © importedbeverages STATUS : comple...
