I've grown tired.
And I would much rather sleep,
than think of all the things that have
abandoned me.
What to begin with? Where to start?
I think i've left so much behind that
to ask myself of desertion would be too hard.
Maybe i'll confess, or simply turn away
to the accusatory gaze of yesterday.
Who often seeks to remind me of those tender
miles, and sweet dreams, that ache in my jaw like cavities.
When it all comes down to it---
out of anger or desperation ---
I abandon myself.
YOU ARE READING
Verses
PoetryBook One: ~Romanticism~ An anthology of poems I worked on for a poetry class. They are reflective of how one feels when the heart and mind become entangled. Book Two: ~About~ Another collection of poetry that illuminates and explores the definitio...
