There is something on my mind,
Keeping me busy.
But it cannot be defined:
Finding it isn't easy.
It slows my actions,
It drags my feet,
It shrouds,
It clouds,
It crowds,
It's loud,
And still it never leaves.
Is this what it feels like?
You feel something, yet you don't;
You're so moody in no mood;
You say something that you want,
And you'll do it- No, you won't;
All is mundane and so dull;
All you're to do, you just stall;
And you hate all things communal;
You want to speak to no-one,
But you want someone to talk to;
You want to let "it" all go,
But what "it" is, you don't know;
You wear your smile upside down;
Your best friend's your couch or bed;
You tend to seek approval,
For validation's all you want;
You want to be left alone;
You want to stay alive, but die;
You cause pain to relieve your pain;
Nothing ever makes any sense;
Only chaos fills your head;
Does any of this make sense?
YOU ARE READING
The Darkness Within: Vol. 2
PoetryA second installment, a continuation of its brutally and abruptly discontinued predecessor. It's a very personal poetry book, as most of those who have read some poetry from the original would know. Long story short, I write to vent, and this is wh...
