It's so quiet here.
My sadness feels like home.
What a life to live.
From where you are
you give me your words.
It's not enough.
It never is.
I flip over the tear-stained
pillow, sleeping
on the dry side.
It provides little comfort,
but I can pretend.
I used to love pretending.
There's no use in it anymore.
I'm left in a void.
There is nothing.
Emptiness.
My demons.
Silence.
I wish I could sleep.
I wish I could have you here.
I wish I could be happy.
I wish I could believe in wishes.
I wish I could
YOU ARE READING
Caffeine and Me
PoetryA collection of poetry ranging from brain farts to exploring why I bother getting up in the morning. Most likely there is some form of caffeine to keep me awake (or alert) enough to type my thoughts out regarding my depression, struggles within my d...
