Someone told me to write a poem about the thing I need
And all I know are the things I want, things that stem from greed.
Years of a numb kind of drunk
No awareness of a spirit already sunk
Lungs filled with smoke
An empty laugh at a warm joke
The only indulgence I missed
The only discernable mistake
The first name on a long, long list
Was letting you go, allowing it to break.
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Published by Alanna Higdon
Hey! I'm Alanna.
I am a freelance writer who specializes in blog & social media content. I love serving small business owners, to help them create consistent content that will attract new customers.
A little bit more about me, I was born on the west coast but have lived on the east coast for most of my life. I graduated from college in 2019 as a Sociology major. I'm a lover of cats, coffee, horror movies, rollercoasters, night time walks! You can always follow me on my Instagram for more information and daily updates.
-Alanna
View all posts by Alanna Higdon
Reblogged this on First Steps Creative Writing Course and commented:
Thanks for all the likes, Alanna
Happy writing
c
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