They haunt me.
I will never escape the voices,
That whisper to me as I try to sleep.
The faces that pass through my vision
In every random passerby in the street.
I can't escape them.
There are dozens.
But I know that this is not guilt.
It can't be.
The souls of the dead,
Tormenting me.
I do not feel guilt.
I cannot feel empathy.
Though they still haunt me,
And i'm not sure i will ever be free.
YOU ARE READING
REALITY
PoetryPoetry for those few souls that long for realness our world lacks Written not for reads but a place where I can write my feelings so I can attempt understand them myself. ••• To the boy that changed me. Heartbreak or not, you will live on in my burn...
