the days are passing
without my knowledge
they take large steps
over my cowering form
as i lay on the ground
i feel small in a room
empty except for
the clock on the wall
the clock doesn't work
it skips time
minutes or hours
gone without knowing
i piece together
the missing moments
much like you do after
a too intense night out
i don't know what i miss
the time void is blank
only when i stand in the room
i can remember
YOU ARE READING
Brain Dump
PoetryIf I write a poem, it goes here. A collection of thoughts, dreams, fears, and whatever else I see in my brain. TW: mentions of sexual assault, suicide, depression, anxiety, self harm
