Date Written: 7/18/2021
The warm sensation of the sun's rays pouring down on me heats my face and skin;
I soak it in, and I begin to ponder, ask myself questions I know I'll never know the answer to.
Dumb, stupid little things.
The questions are obnoxiously simple, but never understood.
Always said to be full of symbolism and meaning, but, truly terrible, hateful even.
Well, here I am,
Lying on the beach, completely alone, isolated;
Listening to a random tune,
Ah, I'm just rambling on, aren't I?
I should just quiet down, shouldn't I?
No, just stop.
"Stop"
"Stop"
"Stop"
The word runs through my mind over and over again, like a broken record.
I can't stop the feeling.
The pain.
I need to stop.
I have to stop.
But I can't.
I can't.
But then I finally regain my consciousness.
It was a daydream
Just a stupid daydream
Why hasn't it stopped?
Why hasn't it left?
Why?
Please, someone save me from my mind.
From my thoughts.
From my feelings.
It's swallowing me whole.
YOU ARE READING
"...Will it ever be enough?"
Poesía(IMPORTANT: This is not something I'm proud of writing, but I am keeping it up for archival purposes) Not all that different from my Oneshot Book, this is a collection of poems I write in my free time. And, just like my Oneshot Book, I will most lik...
