there are days when i feel empty
as if someone has unstoppered my soul
and let drain all the emotions, the hope
that lives there
and i find myself sinking between layers of fabric
drowning in the expanse of my bed
which is as much a prison as a comfort
it is on these days that i could swallow the world
slaughter and burn and hate
for nothing is left to facilitate my caring
and i would
if only to feel something
if i but had the energy to do so
YOU ARE READING
collections of constellations and the stars || poetry collection
Poetrypoems often written at midnight, each telling its own story. an anthology of sorts. grammatically incorrect use of lowercase is an aesthetic choice and intentional. |incomplete|
