No method in my motion
aimlessly drifting
my life, only
chaos and commotion.
when you left
I lost my north star
my path is askew
I am dying inside
and I don't know
what to do.
The nights are the worst
I lie in my bed
grasping my pillow
stroking it as if it
were your head
all
tangled in sheets
that should be our
hands and feet
just praying I'll
dream of us
once it becomes dusk.
It seems at night
time goes by fast
dreams of us together
never seems to last.
before you know it
the day starts and then
I begin to miss you
all over again.
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
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