... addiction ..., ... beauty ..., ... experimental ..., ... girl ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... sins ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

mourning the morning

i am drained into
tiny vessels where

despairing lids press
tightly over the

mouth above to keep
what feeling remains

from spilling out
onto the thirsty ground.

this is nearly
empty

this is
brokenhearted.

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6 thoughts on “mourning the morning

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