The streets
We're empty. The city, full bright as day - dull and a few people.
Soon enough local areas turning into what looks like a ghost town.
Haunting each other so we don't die because we don't know how to survive.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
YOU ARE READING
A Journey Past Our Solar System: Poetry of a Borderline
PoetryA Journey Past Our Solar System is mostly confessional poetry of my life in the few last years, structures of a dysfunctional family, in the middle of dealing with mental illness. A tragedy in the making of my brain turning into coal, ready to burn...
