Poetry

Weekends Are Always A Hit Or Miss – [56/365]

Morning Text by Kori | Written 2/26/17

Wake up to misery,

worry about yourself,

I am fine without your nasty remarks.

They turn into anger,

and get embedded into my memories.

This cycle won’t end.

Delete,

don’t talk,

ignore.

You don’t deserve me.

There is no joy, no song sung, no jokes, or criticism.

Just accusations and bitterness.

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

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