They sat at their desk; the golden light from the lamp illuminating their tired, depleted tear stained face. Their eyes. Their dull, sunken eyes stared blankly at the table as they zoned out deep in thought.
They wondered why they felt like this, what had they done to deserve the unbearable, emptying ache deep in their heart? The familiar, empty dejection returning like a bad dream; never ending, unyielding. The pain, though never physical, hurt more than any physical cut or bruise, never stopping, even after cleaning and dressing the wound.
The pain always stayed; never coming to an end for anyone, or anything, determined to make its host a shell of their former selves, a vessel consumed with an unrelenting anger and misery.
The scariest part about this pain, was the not knowing when, or even if this hideous curse would go away. Terrified it would stay; and slowly drive them mad, until the end of their days.
A slave to this unforgiving dread.
YOU ARE READING
jaspers random-ass 'poems'
PoetryI should've just stuck with philosophy.. my random poems that I wrote bc I was bored. probably months old lmao
