At times, I feel as if the sun's only purpose is to blind me.
I feel as if the moon only shows her face to mock me with her beauty.
The void poisons my outlook on the world.
I become bitter, like the taste of the darkest chocolate, or green tea that has gone cold.
The hope in my heart crumbles, and not even the slightest light shines through.
The voices of my friends fades away, becoming nothing but white noise.
It drives me mad. My body is not meant for those feelings. It cannot handle the pressure.
The bitterness burns through my insides like acid, leaving nothing alive.
I'm aware of my sins, and as I look back at them, I regret my every move.
My love for life has been thrown away, out to the stars. Now it shall circulate around Jupiter for the rest of eternity.
I'm dead, yet alive. Forgive me, my love.
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Poetry for the weak of heart
PoetryA simple collection of somewhat personal poetry. It is mainly directed at the following groups: The fatherless gays. The band kids. The people who didn't have a fnaf phase. The people who want to run away with the love of their life. The people who...
