Whiskey, Words, and a Shovel

A book of poetry by R.H. Sin

I usually become a ghost to those who no
longer deserve my time. I've never seen a point
in explaining my absence to someone
who failed to appreciate my presence. You
don't owe any explanations to those who hurt you.
Wide awake as your soul remains tired.
Sitting silently under the moon as your mind continues
to scream. you're losing yourself, you're
losing sleep but he's losing you. some time soon, the
thought of him will no longer keep you up at night.
The best feeling is being able to miss
someone who actually makes an effort to make you
feel good, feel peace.