Hands in your pockets,
Smoking cigarettes.
Waiting,
For her.
Your eyes shine bright,
With love.
You call her your sunshine,
And your lover.
She's late,
"it's okay" you think,
"because she's always late."
And you keep waiting.
You take a seat because your feet are sore from standing,
And I yearn to tell you.
That she won't be coming today,
Or ever.
I look back to this morning.
And I remember her screams,
As I ran a knife across her throat.
Because she doesn't seem to understand,
That you and I are meant to be.
So I keep watching you from my car,
with a smile.
~ Sandra
YOU ARE READING
ME
Poesia#9 in sadstuff This awesome cover is by @winteringz. Please check her stuff out, she's so goddamm talented! ❤️ These are a bunch of poems I've written over the past two years. WARNING: My poems talk about suicide, depression, anxiety, eating disord...
