Night time



Alone I

Am a glass

Of red wine that has

Been forgotten on the end table, lipstick stains

The rim of the glass leaving a lasting memory of a lonely night

A book lies open with tear stained pages

Words blurred into ink puddles

It’s my journal

It says



The bed

Is mussed and

A comforter lies still, not

Doing what its namesake stands for, it does

Not make me feel safe, in my own bed I am not safe

From the thoughts in my own head, the

Memories that won’t shut off

And they will

Haunt me




2 thoughts on “Night time

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