What’s left of me?
I question myself every quiet dawn
Where i know the sun won't be looking through the moon
As i lie down, tired from my unending wake
I don’t like the dialogue in my head
How it rings out, bouncing off every crevice of my skull
How it speaks every word the voice box wont
How my body curls into a siphon, pouring its words off of me.
Melancholy runs through my blood
It sits right below my lungs, waiting for breath
When it sees one it weeps
And all that comes out is a decaying creak.
I don’t recognize you, It says.
But it’s true. I was born to forget you.
But when I lose you, then what’s left of me?
Sylas, 8th of March, 32
YOU ARE READING
MR. BORN TO LOSE
Romance(BXB) Inspired by Lana Del Rey's Honeymoon album Samuel Clifton is a literature fanatic, he has an infatuation on one particular poet, Leonard Sylas. Upon stumbling on his work online, he immediately felt a connection between him and the long gone p...
