Monday to Friday I’m faced by the same pair of hazel eyes Every word your lips utter feeling like torture to my eyes and ears How could you be so beautiful?

Bruised

Tick tock the clock strikes six As she sits staring the light emitted by her phone wanting to call it quits Rummaging through her work, she wonders if there’s even anything to fix Read. Stop. Reread. In a sigh of defeat, she just sits

The colour black I painted my room black As a way of expressing how I truly felt... It was black because I wanted so desperately for people to see through the crack That was my somewhat perfect looking life I painted it black because I found comfort in...