in a world without existence,in a place without life itself,
my hands touch.
everything around me is dark,
everything is lost;
there's nothing left.
everything we fight for,
everything we live for;
everything has ceased to be.
what we once called life is gone;
there's nothing.
my hands reach out,
looking to feel warm,
but there is nothing
except cold emptiness.
//rms
YOU ARE READING
from the other persepective
Poésienot the perspective of myself but through the girl who is hidden inside me too afraid to directly express her thoughts ★✰ rms // all rights reserved do not take my work and clam it as your own ★✰ most impressive rankings: #𝟣 in poetry - 𝟣𝟢/𝟥𝟣...