Untitled #1

Untitled #1

A Poem by fictionletsusfly

And I keep thinking the days must be longer here.
There's no one to keep them from evaporating
like they never were
like they had no right to exist.
What's the meaning of it all, really?
Maybe the sun is different,
burns me dry and tired.
So worn that my bones feel brittle
and I don't feel like breathing
this used air.

© 2014 fictionletsusfly


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Added on April 30, 2014
Last Updated on April 30, 2014
Tags: poetry, tired, stuck

Author

fictionletsusfly
fictionletsusfly

Nashville, TN



About
writer / singer / musician / artist / lover / listener / teller of stories more..

Writing
Him Him

A Poem by fictionletsusfly