That is all I feel at times.
I am nothing to anyone.
I don't find the point in any of this.
Nothing and it's nothingness is what I sink into.
I am to blame for things going wrong.
I am to blame for car troubles that are out of my hands.
I am to blame for who ends up loving who.
I am to blame for a loveless marriage.
Yet, I am nothing to you.
Still, why do I stay?
Nothing is what I am.
Nothing is what I shall become.
I know it, they know it, and the world knows it.
There is no point to nothing or this nothingness.
YOU ARE READING
Love, life, and everything in between.
PoésieNumerous poems about what love can do and how it hurts just as much. A collection of thoughts, feelings, and the universal experience of being a human being. Life! From ages 14-23.
