Time moves outside
But not for me
And I don't care
I feel my body
Empty of everything
Hollow time
I just let go
Let the days
Turn to nights
What's the point?
Of Monday
Or Friday
Or Sunday
They all bleed into one
I don't want to
Open my eyes
I am
Breathing
Existing
Why?
Where's my light
At the end of the tunnel
My body
Mind
Soul
Is a shell
Time for me is truly
Hollow
I feel nothing
I've even put
Hope on the backburner
Until there's something
To hope for
I want the
Hollow time
To have meaning again
I don't know how
It's July
It's been 1 year since
I crashed
What has changed?
I've gotten worse
Getting worse before
Getting better huh?
Well when the fuck
Is that supposed to happen?
I will be 31 in 2.5 months
And?
What if I'm not human anymore?
What if I'm just a zombie?
Who cares?
Doesn't matter
Just me
My bed
My room
My house
My backyard
Suspended animation
My hollow time
I have no thoughts
Of goodness
I have no thoughts
I've let myself drift away
No tether holding me
To anything or anyone
What shall be
Shall be
YOU ARE READING
ME Survivor (Book 3)
Poetry17 million people around the world suffer from Myalgic Encephalomyelitis or ME and it is incurable and untreatable. The disease is called ME but Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or CFS is the name the CDC gave it. Doctors for the most part think that it is...
