Day fifty
Dear Patrick,
In every way that counted,
I was dead.
Inside somewhere maybe I was screaming
And weeping and howling like an animal,
But that was another person deep inside,
Another person who had no access
To the lips and face and mouth and head.
So on the surface I just shrugged and smile and kept moving.
If I could have physically passed away,
Just let it all go, like that,
Without doing anything,
Stepped out of life as easily as walking through a door,
I would have done.
But I was going to sleep at night
And waking in the morning,
Disappointed to be there and resigned to existence.
A.
YOU ARE READING
Riptide
Teen FictionYou couldn't understand, even if you tried, the reason that she cries at night, the reason she tries to hide. Don't try to come close, she'll just push you away, there's something that you don't know, words she couldn't say. She tries with all her...
