entry picture

This make-believe story I predicted in my head,

To pieces upon the ground does it fall.

A happiness once experienced -

A security long gone,

And a father I had imagined -

Now a memory in which I had created.


But, the hurt inside is real -

All torn up, how does my heart continue to beat?

A trauma of the past -

Why must I remember what I wish not to?


I created the perfect life in my head,

I planned, and I planned it well.

Used up everything in me,

To become a girl cherished

By a happy family,

A happy father and a happy mother -

To pieces upon the ground,

Does this make-believe story crash.


◄ That Day.

Purgatory ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message