xxvii. A BRUISE HALF HEALED.
and my heart sings a song
i don't recall ever hearing.
crying out long before you left as
if she knew where things were going
before i could. i listened to her weeps
every night over a soul who had yet
to leave. it was quite odd when you
finally said goodbye with your bags
packed in the kitchen,
with slight tears in your eyes,
and i felt nothing.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
