I'm too far gone
for you to even care.
Forget about me
and my mind
and my body
and my soul
For I am so depressed
that not even the drink
or the drugs
or the long nights
can save me anymore
There is no motion before me
no drive behind my eyes
no love, lust, ambition.
None.
I am simply a carcasse,
a weak and hollow shell of the person I used to be.
And I am bored.
So bored, I refute the recycled routine, accept the madness, get sick of it, and wish for the same again.
It doesn't stop.
Why, does nothing matter?
Not only the outside world but the inside of mine, me, us, them, but not you.
I wish
I could decide
When it would be my time
because if I could,
it would be now
and I would be gone
in as simple a manner
as I exist.
YOU ARE READING
Memoirs Of Youth
PoetryThe most prevalent and perhaps my favourite of the thoughts that pass... Slight bit of obsession, attachment issues, Dad's gone to the shop, i don't like feeling, for some reason can't deal with emotions? slight PTSD, wub a lub a dub dub, recovering...
