On the floor.
I am on the floor.
I'm not sure if I am still alive,
or if I'm dead,
not anymore.
I don't know.
Who am I?
I don't know.
I know you.
That's true.
I'm so glad I do.
But,
I don't know.
Life is sucking everything out of me
and now I'm just
a void
of empty
non feeling.
Is there any love for voids?
Or is that,
the reason,
why the people in my life,
have been leaving?
Have I gone too far now,
become too much of a void,
to be loved,
to be enjoyed?
I don't know.
YOU ARE READING
I Wrote This At Midnight
PoesíaI Wrote This At Midnight is a collection of poems I have and will write, that were most likely written late at night (or just feel very chaotic). As always, thank you for your support, I hope you enjoy :) Warning: The poems included are not censored...
