28
It'll be my birthday soon, the grayest morning of November.
There was a time when getting older was fun, or don't I remember?
Pick apart the flaws in the mirror, apply the lotions and the creams;
Not even 30 and yet the long sleep stares at me.
"Shouldn't you be stable now? More successful? A better time?"
They ask the same questions as the voices in my mind.
Such a pretty girl, most likely to succeed;
Is the real person I turned out to be everything you need?
I'm your missing flight, the lost plane that never showed;
Crashing wildly through the air to a destination unknown.
You counted on me, an innocent being with big, sad eyes;
It would take me 28 more years to count how many times, for you, I've cried.
YOU ARE READING
your heart breaks forevermore
PoetryA combination of both poetry and story-telling, I hope you all enjoy this collection as much as I enjoyed writing it. Poetry has always been an escape for me, whether it be based on something real or entirely fictional. I pray you all can escape int...
