Poem -

Tired.

There’s no relief in the sound of opening the front door
of our home after home became
an asylum of locked up emotions
and scratches, hopelessly begging for freedom.

The same dull eyes refuse to greet me.
He’s tired of me and
fuck I’m tired of waiting for him to change.

I am overwhelmed with an underwhelming amount of love

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Comments

author
Lauryn Keller

Thank you! Your words of encouragement fuels my inspiration ?

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