19 of 579

by Cassandra Hilton

Corner of the loveseat while the sun sets behind closed blinds
Cigarette burns low
The neighbors phone rings off the hook
While mine stares back at me
Black.
It might as well be broken 'cause it never seems to ring
The more I check the clock the slower the hand turns
And the more I think, the more I think of you
Rotting away with the time
But I'll be damned, don't my eyes look happy
In those ego-whore photos of mine?
When your mouth has to smile just to hold in a scream
When life beats you down and you live in a dream
Don't come to me
You haven't seen what I've seen
They all want us to stay, but I knew this day would come
When this old life would give way to a new one

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Poetry: Loneliness

by Cassandra Hilton

Poetry: Loneliness

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