i can spend many an hour,
by Lexi Smith
crying my eyes out in the shower,
when in there noone can see,
the crumbling mess of what was me.
i cry until i can no more,
a shaking mess on the tiled floor,
when im there noone can see,
the emptyness of what won't be.
she will not stop though i have tried,
she's irresponsive to my cries,
so i cry where noone can see,
the broken centre of what was me.