Blue hues upon the summer grass, dark shadows underneath my eyes, and I am awake, but I am tired. And this no longer feels like love, and how could it when I've become to bare the burden of being numb? Darling, your touch has gone sour and your words continue to leave me and they are no longer comforting...such a tragedy, you are mine, but I am no longer yours...so tragic, so tragic indeed.
YOU ARE READING
Every Tear
PoetryStaring at these blank pages my mind is empty, the words won't bleed from my fingertips, for they only know my eyes.
