my writing is empty and as speechless as i am
i know somewhere inside of me contains the words i cannot render,
because speaking them will only make them apart of my reality
u are not coming back.
yet u will make it a routine of urs to stay updated with what i do.
and i will not block u because im in between feelings rn.
i dont know whether to be sad angry or both.
or to even respond
but if my decision are based off of the limits others have constructed to hold me down than thats where i will remain in the shadows in the depths.
and the wind is blowing as jesus wept.
//e.b.
YOU ARE READING
DIRTY LAUNDRY
Poetryjust another underrated poetry book, a poetic photograph of the saddest months of my life from Jan 2016- May 2016 ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
