It creeps into your heart
and your soul
sucks you dry
a proverbial vampire
it leaves you a shell
a marble image
as you cease to recall
the motions of breathing
one day blends into the next
memory is nothing
but blurred images
YOU ARE READING
Confessions of a Good Girl: A Poetry Collection
PoesíaPoetry from my life written between ages 16 and the present.