All of these lies.
You keep throwing all of the lies. They seem to hit so hard that I shatter like a beer bottle being shot at by a gun. All the mountains are turning into hills, all the hills turning into sloppy piles of mud.
The sun seems to dim as the day gets harder as if it was getting longer. Your absence in my life it shatters me into a billion pieces as if I was just a beer bottle being shot at by a gun. You played me in a sick game of Monopoly as if I was some pawn to your Chess board.
YOU ARE READING
Shattered Beer
Poetry"The sun seems to dim as the day gets harder as if it was getting longer."
