It's 3 a.m and she's taking puffs on cigarettes,
as she feels loneliness invading her again.
Smoke slow dances to the soft melodies,
silence haunts her mind desperately,
—Why do you keep destroying yourself with all of this? —asks hope despairingly.
She looks at him with oceans running down her eyes.
—Don't you know feeling too much can also kill? —she says taking another sip of a hard liquor drink.
YOU ARE READING
A Hundred Roses
PoetryAnd suddenly, I couldn't tell anymore if it was me the one reading her words or her words were the ones that kept reading my soul
