“Game Lost”
(1111 | 062320)
Sometimes I think to myself of what's left to fight for, what for when I've already lost. Like I'm on a war struck land, everything is barren and clouded with ash, but I'm not running. I stand and feel the scorching heat against my skin, I'll just watch it all fall and perhaps burn the bitterness away from me. There's no running from the pain, because it's clearer than the heaven's sky, that what's killing me isn't hurting you.
(1132)
YOU ARE READING
Not A Goodbye
PoetryStuck between a goodbye and a promise to stay, and it became too overwhelming to make any sense so I wrote. I wrote again and again, multiple times within a day or another, until it became this. I'm not done writing, but at least the feelings have c...
