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I,
I've packed all my clothes and walked out the door.
One,
One last look at the chipped door frame and I'm gone.
The satchel feels heavenly against my palms.
Finally,
I'm greeted with a long-forgotten sense of confidence in my stance.
This,
This must be the part where I leave fresh fears behind.
Quivering lips and mumbles are in the past.
Where,
Where my head once laid, a yellow note remains.
I refuse to stay in a place full of hate.
Words,
Words run dry inside our ruined paradise.
There's nothing left to say to say.
Excuses won't ever make it okay.
It's,
It's unbearable.
Our situation is terrible.
Now it's your turn to understand. Not all love stories have a happy end.
YOU ARE READING
Yearn To Touch | Poetry Book #1
PoetryThe walls guarding your heart will crumble down to the bone. And all that shall remain are the cracks and chips upon the beating surface. Drop by drop your emotions and desires will bleed. But know that you must tumble and fall before learning to st...
