What Doesn’t Kill You

This is the type of hurting where there is no relief, Perhaps only distractions that subside the worst of it all. Small moments where your ache becomes apart of you As if it’s been here the entire time As if the hole thats been left was a birth mark And the scars that you gained were just prophecies

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.

IdEgo

Dreams, desires, id and ego.