Apr 16, 2015
3 A.M. Musing
I never knew why people got drunk to forget
Until you fell out of love with me.
My mom told me we are not the reflection
Of those who don’t know how to love us.
But your fucking face is still burned on to
The insides of my eyelids
And I promise you no amount of cold showers
Will help you wash off the sleep
From your tired soul.
I’m the type of tired that sleep can’t fix
And I can feel you’re not whole;
I’m rubbing off on you.
Poetry by: recreationalrufies
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