i ceased to exist
i lay crumpled in the soil
heartbeat still
"how do i expect that you'd have done the correct thing when you never do things right"
eyes shut
wrinkles etched in them
back to the ground
arms at my side
fingers tied into a fist
"you never listen to me, i'll never correct you"
skin paled
and burnt by the sun
the memories had flashed
the ones the dead always saw before they left
the constant reminders of who i was
"you're never good at anything"
lips set in a straight line
YOU ARE READING
Nighttime reminders
PoetryNighttime reminds us of.... the voices in our head when they get loud, the sadness in our hearts when no one listens, the peace we find only to crumble, the people we know, only that they never want us to achieve, the emptiness of our souls that dar...
