Sort of how I’ve been feeling the last couple of days. It’s been hard trying to really get back into writing poetry, and write something I am really satisfied with. This is a start I guess. I think a lot about being nothing. It’s hard explaining exactly what I mean by that because it’s really more than what it sounds like.  

Irritated; ready to die
My tears hang on for dear life

Won’t my familiars admit the truth?
I am around without a use?
I shade in well, I disappear
In disturbed thoughts no one else hears
To be apart of nothingness…..
Between each breath and each second

Nothing is decided, nothing recognized
Where lives of all sorts are born to die
I’ll keep away. I will not leech
Isolation has a point I’ve reached
When talk turns a weak enemy
When those around refuse to see

As prayer, and bright hopeful dreams
Decide to mean nothing.

1 Comment

Filed under Life, personal, poems, poetry

One response to ““Nothing”

  1. lucienlachance

    Poetry, at least to me, is one of the hardest things to write. It seems like everything has to be right: the time of day, your mood, the glaring computer screen (or perhaps glaring white paper)…. Sometimes I can’t write anything, other days I manage to drag four or five poems from some dark corner of myself. I say just never force it, you know?

    Everything you write about, the feelings, the problems, it’s always the stuff on the tip of my tongue that I can’t seem to get out. You always manage it perfectly.

    “I’ll keep away. I will not leech
    Isolation has a point I’ve reached”

    It’s beautiful.

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