I always knew it was a lie,
that there was no
good in goodbye,
how could there be any good
in having to leave
something
that was a part of you.
No matter if it were for the best,
I still felt like a piece
of my heart was being ripped
straight out of my body.
How could that be good for anyone?
It couldn't.
My screams would rip through my
vocal chords,
bleeding and the sounds of popping
Would make my ears cry in tuneless whispers.
That kind of pain is better than the one
of the drowning loneliness
I am bound to gasp and wail against,
only to grow tired and give in
to its waves one day.
One day.
How I dread that day.
"One day," I tell myself, "one day".
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Words That Never Seem To Be Enough
PoetryA book filled with words that I thought made sense, but they never seem to be enough. *warning* emotional, messy, raw and full of sadness (sometimes a little happiness here and there) I hope you give my words a chance, maybe they'll be enough for yo...
