FORTY-EIGHT
fatal to the soul
And I am patiently waiting for the good times now.
One day, I will look back at the tears
and see that they have all etched themselves
back together.
I'm waiting for the hurt to fade from my skull,
my veins, and eventually, my insides.
Perhaps one day, my linings will dissolve
all the sin I caused,
maybe my fatals will forgive me.
One day, I will look back at us
and remember all you laid onto me.
My bones won't linger for sleep,
they'll be complete for the first time.
We are not meant to suffer so long, so quietly,
forever.
How many hours of sleep do you typically get?
𐎀 Around 6 or 7, it really depends on the day.
May
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𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 ➙ 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺
PoetryMELANCHOLY | Melancholy drips from my fingertips. SOON TO BE A PUBLISHED PAPERBACK. COMING 2025! This melancholy drips from my fingertips so slowly, you begin to forget I even exist. All of me, the hard parts of flesh you could never seem to love...
