Its 11:44
Im searching in the depths of my mind
To only find emptiness and nothing more
Scratch that I close the door
To the girl who vulnerability was her only ability to describe how she was feeling in that moment of time
The core
You hid yourself away
No you really did yourself today
Im eating at my own conscious
Creating these allusive thoughts that weaken the soul until it decays
and the scraps of the remaining flesh is all that is left
I bleed a death of words I no longer possess a talent to confess
// e.b.
YOU ARE READING
THE FUNDAMENTALS OF A REALIST
PoetryA collection of my thoughts in poems that reflects my life before, after, and during being associated with my first love as well as my creative impulses. a poetic photograph of May 2015- October 2015. ***BEWARE PROFANITY***
