The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.

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78. Miss

I won't miss my mum and dad, or the flowers on my block.

I won't miss the friends I never had, or the ticking hands on my old clock.

I won't miss the doctors who tried to fix me, or the mirrors that mocked me everyday.

I won't miss the girl who wanted to kiss me, or the people who begged me to stay.

I won't miss the sight of my bloody skin, or the razors that fooled me into hating life.

I won't miss the struggle of trying to fit in, or the battles I had that caused all this strife.

I won't miss the girl who used to always smile, because I hurt her too much and she's

been dead for a while.

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