False brightness rolls across
Your sun-starved skin,
Soaking it in, like a weak,
Parched, animal - desperate for warmth;
When that warmth finally comes
You're so starved of the sun,
Of any proper connection,
That you'll take anything that looks legit,
Only to be left in the dust -
Abandoned -
Like every other attempt
You've ever made
In getting close to someone;
Further inducing the loneliness
That's never really stopped threatening
To consume your soul -
A further reminder that darkness
Is your best friend -
And the only thing
You can properly count on in life
Is disappointment.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of the Deep
PoetryA collection of poetry I've written over the years dealing with my journey through depression and self-harm. It's a mental health journey. (Also, I've Updated the cover! Final Edition) Trigger warning: lots of my writing is a bit dark - deals wit...
