Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Twenty Four Hours

Twenty four times,

you bite your tongue,

and think of mine.

Your body betrays your mind,

as you wake,

your lap springs to life,

your rest interrupted by your impulses,

racing,

restless,

you waste time,

trying to escape your yearning mind.

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Twenty four trips,

to the shops,

to the shed,

to wherever you can be alone,

with your thoughts,

and your bitter, bitten breakdowns.

Silently screaming,

as you strip yourself down,

wondering why everyone wants you,

and all of your value,

but nobody needs you,

when you’re alone,

stripped and screaming.

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Twenty four trials,

where you hold the hardship inside your head,

stepping in puddles of pain,

that become seas of sorrow,

taking each sad boy hour,

a minute at a time,

trying not to drown,

as you paint perfection onto your face,

pretending you are a picture perfect partner,

but your make up aches down your distressed,

downtrodden face,

and when you’re finally at my door,

I see you,

as you are,

but I love you all the same.


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