the morning before you,
shadowed-like mind,
it hisses between conversations,
tearing me up right inside.
I want to be happy,
But without the thought of you
I want to know I can be happy,
Without holding onto you
Felt like the pennys I've spent,
Time I've borrowed,
Have gone to waste.
Shower them with love and blessings,
The one time you fucked up,
Is the only thing they'll remember.
Give them your whole world,
They'll hate you as
you didn't provide the stars.
-N.I
YOU ARE READING
Dead Poets
Poetry"Poets are among the damned, cursed to commiserate over their loss, to reach with outstretched hands-" -Lang Leav
