Unexplainable guilt with deep aching in the heart which can't be scratched away even with the fangs of time and so she layed down, wide awake, maybe with glazed eyes, maybe staring into void, not moving an ounce of muscle, trying to subside the undescribable feeling with soft music only to make it ten folds worst, wanting to scream aloud but wanting to stay quite as long as the sand of time allows at the same time.
Those days were just too despicable to describe. And so she never told them, just wrote, wrote the syllables her tough refused to utter for she felt too overwhelmed to explicate and neither did they were ever bothered enough to question her quite days.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of my soul
PoetrySoothe the demons in my head, hold me till my death. Highest-ranking #1 in self-absorbed #1 in unsaidfeelings #1 in poem collection #2 in poem collection #4 in latenightthoughts #3 in latenightthoughts #4 in selfreflection
