A plunge pool of tears fills my sink,I drown into my bed day after daylooking at the roof, recalling those calls, of the voice I thought that once was mine. Weeks go by and they turn into monthsthe loudest thought become my closest friendI would sit and stare at flowers, food, arguments, deaths, books, and pensyet see no difference.but still I smiled and laughed to hide the feelings that were flowing alongside my blood. So I turned to my religion,the voices that once deafened, became my comfort,I greeted an old friend, the piano,Singing “help of the helpless”, for life to go on. I thought I was the strongest, I thought I was resilient, and I held myself to the highest…
Rent Free
