Worst Days

Worst days brought me down to the


Depth of the kind where darkness seemed to kill me

Killing of the kind where I felt being slayed by the facts.

Facts of the kind where keeping head high was a task.

Task of the kind where wrath of losing was more than surviving.

Survival of the kind where breath came out interepted.

Interuption of the kind where lungs didn’t breathe instead they bleed.

Bleeding of the kind where pain was tearing me apart.

Tearing of the kind where every single joint ached.

Ache of the kind where eyes ceased having tears.

Tears of the composition having blood and rage.

Rage of the kind that couldn’t be expressed by words.

Words of the kind that were more like hell to share.

Sharing of the kind where I knew my sorrow will become a laugh.

Laugh of the kind where two eyes wept alone with the fear.

Fear of the kind where no one knew how much it hurts.

Hurt of the kind where you I didn’t give even a single sign of curt.



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