"Today was the worst day of my life."
That was what she told me
as she reached for her auburn,
rusted razor.
Now she's even more dead inside
than she was yesterday.
"Today was the worst day of my life."
That was what he told me
as he reached for his half-empty,
whiskey bottle.
Now he's even more lost inside
than he would like to think about.
"Today was the worst day of my life."
That was what I said when
I had reached for my torn up,
shitty journal.
Now I feel even better inside
than I ever did before.
YOU ARE READING
Sleep My Love: Poetry
PuisiA collection of poetry by yours truly. I also write my poems into song form and if you like them, ill write more.
