My mind is seething
she rolls on by...
[trigger/content warning]
Waking up suicidal...
I miss the comfort that your presence brings
When nothing else would, and everything else...
The day
I scribe...
As I walk alone in the pouring rain
Thoughts go through my brain again...
Death is the calling of a childhood friend
or a neighbors father, chilling sound...
Sometimes it feels like my soul is a record...
Not some fancy state-of-the-art machinery...
Even though the sound of my cries
Can only be heard in my mind...
I can't always write about you
but here lately your eyes dance...
Bones are filled with crackling emotion
suffocating lungs, as if the air isn't enough...
it’s just not worth it anymore
this life i think i’ve lead...
Routinely lark, though this day depth therein,
bemused as why the warbling fluter turned...