I don't feel anything towards myself and if I could, I would leave my existence in a garbage can on the corner of the street.
This pain has made my life torch and displaced. The disease of soul burns the flame of my body and brings it to nothingness. I never expected to live happily, but I didn't want to walk in this filth either. You say; Is it worth living like this?
YOU ARE READING
The Fig Tree
PoesiaA series of a teenager's mental secretions, living through the distorting lenses of a bell jar. Just random holy yap. Started in: July 12, 2024 Finished in: probably never
