I feel like I'm just wasting my time waiting and watching you destroy yourself from the inside out. Wondering if you'll ever come around. Wondering if I'll still be here when you're done carrying on the way you do. You take all the pleasure for yourself and take the time we spent for granted. I wish I hadn't said it when I meant it, that my heart burns for you and your home is with me. But you fucked it off and hit rock bottom again. Now I sit here alone thinking of you and the fondness that grew from one night in the bathroom stall in Little Tokyo.
About the Creator
Heather Johnson
I am a Trans African American poet. My poetry discusses mental illness and my journey through it. I write to encourage and inspire others like me that there is hope. May you find comfort in my words.
Keep reading
More stories from Heather Johnson and writers in Poets and other communities.
from death into life
Young Aldin of Wiloh had never contemplated death. It was almost strange — so many around him had the tendency to obsess over it, to clamor and claw almost desperately at their own perceptions of the end to know death as much as they could: when it would come, why it would come, where it would take them when it did.
By angela hepworth7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.