an echoed loathing rang through my head, dried up tears itching my heated cheeks, chewed up nails scratching at endless dried up nothing. for a 3 am sadness it felt like nothing at all, and like nothing i've ever felt before, with a new hollowness everyday - a new type of deep aching to venture every night into the burnings of early morning. to harness aching in a bottle of tears, would means overflowing pools of drowning thoughts and feelings.
YOU ARE READING
the light
Poetrya collection of uncategorized poems from around the years 2016-2019.
