deepundergroundpoetry.com

please, tell me you're okay

the worst days
are not knowing.
Afraid that you're already Gone,
that I've lost you
and just haven't been told.

the worst days
are waiting for news of broken girl,
found dead in her room,
Blood, almost as dark as her thoughts,
caressing her fragile wrists.

On the worst days,
I'm afraid I'm talking to a Ghost,
waiting for an answer
from a body in the ground.
Written by randomMeAndBob
Published
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