Search
  • chaoticallysmallpoetry

The Eggs

She wakes up and looks over to see

A shallow hole

She goes to brush her teeth and looks at the hollowness in her eyes

She heads to kitchen to make breakfast

Her eggs will be salted with tears

From the pain he left.

0 views

©2019 by Chaotically Small Poetry. Proudly created with Wix.com