You were a whole different kind of sadness
Ones that lingers and spreads its venom
deep into the core of my chest.
Ones that stays with no invitation
a visitor of the night that overstays its welcome.
A dull ache that rooted its embrace
to the dawn of tomorrow
from the dusk of yesterday.
YOU ARE READING
The Anomaly of Emancipation
Poetry"It's 3.00 AM, and these feelings don't seem to put themselves to sleep." A compilation of short poetry written when the heart just wanted to talk.
