I can scream into every passing storm cloud, but that will not bring you back. I can yell at god as i sob over crinkled pictures, but all i can grasp are memories.
I’d rather suffer in silence than be subjected to deafening stares. I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship with my body, no one can see the bruises.
You’d read between my lines, You’d seen truths I had tried to deny all my life. You had read poems that were tucked neatly under my sheets, words I never meant anyone to read.
You’ve retracted your rays of warmth. You’ve pulled the clouds to cover sunlight. I think everyone is growing more concerned as the days keep passing and you’re still absent.
