I'm sinking deeper
There's no one even there
Starting to do more thinking
I don't think I even care
I'm but a drip upon a painting
A book amongst a library
Surely if I took to a leaving
No one would really miss me
But that's selfish and untrue
A lie I tell myself
Of course someone cares,
I'm just confused as to who
My head is lost in the clouds
Maybe it'd be better stuck underground
My biggest scream for help
Ironically makes no sound.

YOU ARE READING
Talking to Myself
ŞiirSad poetry I write when I need to vent about something. I share it in hopes of someone being able to relate to what I write and maybe it will help them. I feel this part of my life has concluded and a similar yet new ongoing poetry collection will b...