I scream at a void where I imagine a person to be.
A creator, who's twisted love made me:
A creature capable of existing,
but unable to experience.
Something scared of living and dying at the same time.
I yell all my hatred at them,
but in the end
it's just me and the void.
No one, no thing there to actually hear me.
Yet I stand there begging my imagined manifestation of my pain and hatred
to stop my existence for good.
Just let me stop being.
Let me close my eyes to never open them again,
to never experience again.
YOU ARE READING
evening thoughts
RandomDeep thoughts, as in sleep-deprived at 3am with untreated mental issues and traumas and too many poetry videos on my fyp. I'll just vibe here with them until I feel like getting better. TW for everything I guess.
