Everyday

Everyday

 

Remorse,

and strong feelings

of regret,

I have thrown myself

down the stairwell,

again.

 

In hopes

of mending fences,

I have burnt bridges,

and seen the face

of truth,

in a birdbath

downtown.

 

Crumpled letters

from old friends,

fill my purse,

with nothing

but fear.

 

So I sip wine

in a park

on Sunday mornings,

waiting for the reactions

of the people,

I have left.

Reviews

[�Alexa�]

Great job on this one :)