the nights don't yearn
for longer than they ever need to
they don't speak for themselves
only a whisper in forgotten language
i want to feel as though im caught
once again at the border of nothing
and simultaneously everything
everything all over again
it's a phantom pain
a loss felt in the fallout
of toil and tampering
of a heart like death will win
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
