It'll just be a Tuesday.
A Tuesday, normal to most.
Just another day on the calendar.
It'll be just another day of the week.
But I'm not most people.
I'm the one who still remembers.
I'm the one who still feels.
I'm the one that still misses them.
And I'm the one who still lives,
Regardless of the numbness taking over.
Regardless of that feeling,
That I might be going down.
And it just amazes me how,
Something so small and insignificant, like a day,
Can stand for something so big in one's life,
When they've lost someone they love.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of Me
PoetryThis is a continuation of Poured Out on Paper. Filled with happiness, love, anger, and lust, here's to another poetry book, and to a whole new adventure... (:
