Owen
The pain sets in again, after seeing her hanging all over you. Of all girls the waitress at the bar you bartend a couple nights a week?
The happiness fades as she pulls you closer as you look up and shove her off of you and run over to me. I ignore your protests, her screams of words and the breaking of my own heart.
So here I sit in the bathtub stained pink from my own blood. The blade lays on the floor next to a pill bottle.
Only replaying the scene in my head over and over until unconsciousness takes me
Hearing your voice sing songs in my head and seeing your face one last time
All my letters for you right next to me as if it was my last undying wish for you to feel the inner most feelings that haunt me.
This is what I've come
Just blood spilled upon this page
~Lilllllllyyy
YOU ARE READING
Old jeans
Short StoryPoetry. And Letters. Prose. "You know when old jeans no longer have that new feeling and you hate them? Just like old love." - Lily Lily is a girl that has her heart crushed like throwing away your favorite jeans. These are love letters that he nev...
