96.
My love,
Your still the one who stains my soul.
97.
Fear.
I fear many things.
Most things are mental.
Very little is physical.
I fear change the most.
I fear people leaving,
leaving me behind.
A fear that keeps me up at night.
Whispering into my ear with constant swooing.
About the what if's.
It's a waking fear that comes back from the dead every night.
~E, fears of mine.
98.
I placed a knife into the hands I once knew as a version of home.
That made things easier for me.
The ones that kept me grounded in public places.
"Your choice. Kill me or yourself."
They threw the knife to the ground then walked away. Unfinished. Just as we were.
~E, what could've you said?
99.
My head was underwater when you left.
I covered my ears.
I didn't want to let anyone in.
I wanted you to come back.
I'd welcome you with open arms.
But my head would still be underwater even if you did come back.
~E, I killed myself with wanting you back.
100.
There was a lot of waiting.
Waiting for you to come back from work.
Waiting for you to come back home.
Waiting for a call.
A text.
A sign that you're not sick of me yet.
An read text at least.
A possibility that I may of been a priority instead of an option.
~E, which I'll always be.
YOU ARE READING
sunsets after dark. | poetry collection
Poetryfor the ones that were the sunshine for one wrong person then became the midnight rain for everyone else. an collection of poetry and short stories. ‼️TW‼️ contains hard topics including a mention of SA & SH. Amongst other things. I am a poet I wr...
