Woke up with bloody hands
Full of pain
Full of angst
I remember I slept, soundly
Yet numb and tired
Myself I found
Lying flat on my back
I can see you with my wide eyes
You linger in my head and in my mind
Very awake, very tired
I don't know how this might sound
But I smashed you
away, you!
With all my heart, with all my bloody hands
YOU ARE READING
When Boredom Strikes
PoetryThe sun sets. The darkness came. When boredom strikes, I think of you all over again. Then creativity starts, the journey to memory lane now begins. _______ N.B: Keep reading. May you enjoy this roller coaster ride! -Marjwiiitty
