you're lying on the floor,
the carpet warm beneath you but your body cool.
last night's mascara is dripping underneath your eyes,
your peachy highlighter smeared across your cheeks.
the ceiling seems impossibly far away,
your head swirling as last night's mistakes continue to rush through your bloodstream.
what was it?
coke? redbull? weed?
your heart pounds from the most likely overwhelming amount of substance in your system.
you feel your fluttering heart.
yet it's so broken.
YOU ARE READING
sad poetry
Poetrypoetry about depression, etc. "the biggest lies, of all that are spoken, are the ones that cover up what's broken" - me
