7

I’m tired, the kind of tired that you can’t sleep it off. It’s weighing heavily on my shoulders, pressing my existence down to the bone, beneath the ground you walk on. It’s taking me away from all that I am and leaving almost nothing behind. All that is left can’t be seen, but only felt by a genuine touch of your fingers on my lips.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s