Poem #363

The drops at the bottom of the glass
are tears not liquor.
I found my soul on the floor
Burned and shriveled
it looked like something from a horror movie
but it’s mine and I will find beauty
I will take it home
and my home is not here.

This is the last poem I write
to honor the girl you’ve torn to pieces
This is the last time my steps will echo
through the hollow grounds
of a world that didn’t want me.
Burned and shriveled,
blood dripping down my fingers,
my soul
I will find a way to heal her.

Don’t forget that my first novel is available on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Also you can get my poetry books: Rehab and Identity crisis


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2 thoughts on “Poem #363

  1. Great that you chose to quit attending to the version of yourself you no longer are!! Loved it ✨

  2. Deep and heartfelt poem.

    A pleasure to read you.
    Greetings.

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