Thanks For That Final Nail To My Coffin

Image by Jessica Pereira on playground

I was laying there quiet, wailing on my own, long forgotten as to who put me there. You could have left me to rot, and I probably would’ve. But that was not enough, was it? Like mine was laying on the ground staring at the skies, yours was putting someone beneath — a nasty habit. And it’s hard-breaking habits, so here we are.