Fleeing reality, holding on to
Nothing in the shape of me.
Crying eyes, trembling sighs;
Riding ripples, accompanied by
Echoes of you and I.
I’m seeing stars, reaching out
Oh the simplicity of being empty.
No one’s around, can’t be found
Maybe I was meant to make no sound
I just miss having you by my side.
YOU ARE READING
Fighting Reality
PoetryReality and I are at war. What about, I've never really been sure. But I'm trying my best to figure it out.
