She lived in a different world.
One inside of her head.
Where everything was dark
Where everything was black
Where everything was burnt.
She thought that was the real worl.
So why not live in her head?
Whey not live in a false world,
Because who can really tell the difference?
She was so obsessed with DEATH,
she became it.
She didn't know it was like this.
She felt so calm, like she could just float away.
And she loved that feeling.
Everyone thought is wasn't like this, this peaceful, but we all are.
Floating here, we're peaceful.
And as he comes up to me,
He tells me what you want to hear- that it's alright, you didn't even care.
She couldn't feel.
She couldn't hear.
She couldn't see.
She was death.
And death never felt, nor heard, nor saw.
Death simply was.
And everyone hated death.
VOUS LISEZ
The Blank Screen
PoésieA bunch of short stories/poems I didn't know where to put! I didn't know what to write about, so I just wrote about that. I hope you guys can relate to this, because I sure can. I've been relating to it since I started writing it! Which WAS only, li...
