Depression · Free Write · Poetry · Writing

Shit

It’s 3a.m. again

The hour I meet memories

And put to bed moments

Phases I would rather forget

I feel so far away from anyone

And everyone

Rests their heads

On the platform

I sit

I take off

Freezing cold cement

Lent umbrellas cover me in the snow

I remember both of your faces

The words

The sneer on your ugly face

I hope mine haunts you

A solitary place 

Advertisements