Poetry By Porcelain Prince

Gloom

The gloomy skies gave way and drops of rain crumbled the fabrics of my reality.
She said I'd be hers until the day I died,
But instead she left me and I died inside.
I lie in the mud picking up the pieces of the reality that is now a fantasy.
Streaks of luminous lightening streak across the gray sky.
I lie drenched in the mud not finding the will to move.
Not finding the will to to force oxygen into my lungs.
Not finding the will to make my heartbeat another moment.