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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Written 5/13/15

Submitted: March 17, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 17, 2017



He’s probably glaring at you

You don’t want to look

Recall the conversation which lead you to die inside again

You know the exact moment you made it all go downhill

And you whisper, “Oh no,” as if it were only as innocent as a simple exclamation

Yet you force yourself to think it over and over until you think about every single detail and interpretation

But what’s done is done and your happiness is shattered

The glass you’ve been trying so hard to protect is broken under your own influence, and you couldn’t feel dirtier

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