Numb.
Blank.
Living like I'm dead.
Crying.
Screaming.
No one can hear me.
Trapped in my own mind.
Nightmares don't seem to scare me anymore.
I'm already living in one anyways.
Worse than the one behind my closed eyes.
I welcome the dark.
With it's long long arms, slender cold fingers.
A warmness with hallow eyes.
Tired.
But not from lack of sleep.
Contemplating death, but even to tired for that.
Numb. Blank. Screaming. Crying. Slow unravel of my strength, my will to survive.
I'm struggling.
Trapped and Tired.
YOU ARE READING
Mindful poems
PoetrySo, I don't usually write anymore. But sometimes I do get in my feelings and write something that ends up going here. So enjoy and please if you ever feel down and like this talk to someone don't be like me and keep it all in.
