My feet are heavy
Trying to touch the ground.
My skin,
A vessel of which I doubt.
My heart,
Empty as it floats in the breeze.
My soul,
Embarks on a darkness, only I can see.
Left and right and right and left
Nothing is, nothing is felt
Up and down and down and up
Nothing is, nothing is felt
I hate looking in the mirror,
Cause every time I do,
I see a stranger.
I'm losing my mind,
I don't know anymore.
A tepid face with a manic laughter.
Falling infinitely into a black hole.
Front and back and back and front
Nothing is, nothing is felt.
In and out and out and in
Nothing is, nothing is felt
I am not myself
I am not myself
For nothing is,
Nothing is felt
YOU ARE READING
Letter To My Past Self
Non-FictionThese are several short stories about my life. There are several triggers such as rape and PTSD.
