Caught by surprise when those who we thought to have attained love are wrong.
Sorrow and Death are the blanket of snow that covers the morrow.
The days are sad, but the weeks are hell; the years: impossible.
a variety of losses, regrets, and depression wrapped into a mess of a poem book
started: 04.29.15
completed: 06.24.19
a book that has existed almost as long as I have on here. thank you for giving my story a chance (my apologies if some are really cringe or triggering)