Woke with a bloody fist and a busted lip, countless broken dreams on the floor.
Memories of last night in absolute haze, you question how your life spiraled so out of control. More than a year long hangover in one mind numbing ride.
No matter how much you try — the naked girl on your bed still doesn’t feel right. Like a bad soundtrack, you hit repeat a couple of times more.
Are you closer to her now?
Are you one step closer to nowhere?
Do you ever cross her mind?
Does she know that she’s still all that you think about?
Will you ever find love again?
Will you lose yourself otherwise?
Were you ever good enough for her?
Were you ever good enough for yourself?
Press pause, then breathe Indeed, like a bad soundtrack of your life.
caffeinated sonnets 