DARK
Love is a funny thing
People come people go.
When they go, where do I go?
I go to a dark, cold, purgatory.
I can move on but I choose to stay.
Like purgatory, my soul stays.
But I don't.
There's always a light.
But there's none in sight.
Dark.
Empty.
Lonely.
Dead.
YOU ARE READING
...The Rest is History
Poetry⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING⚠️ A collection of memories, in form of poems and short stories Poems don't always have to rhyme do they?
