Leaving behind all the things that remind me of you. Packing my bags and rehashing the unforgettable stagnancy. Till finally it all blew up into a pool of distaste and disgrace. I feel empty and far gone, but I am no longer your movable pawn. I can live freely, or so I think, you see. It's never ending, this jerking of emotions and rendering. I can't escape my own thoughts, they're killing me and reestablishing all that I was taught. The pain is only a game. And I can't find the final bend, because this life is only a dead end.
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Poetry Catalog
PoetryThe best part about writing is that sometimes it speaks to you.
