•The time, like the past days.
My eyes, on the ceiling; darkness is all I see.
Black holes appeared in the place very known.
They ask me not to worry, never telling me,
How to stop it
How to control it
What is it
Why can't I stop.
Thought after thought, the night, long gone.
Whoever possessed me was my soul
Now they sunk to my feet.
I no longer know
I no longer sleep
Emotions are all what I've become,
Sense was long gone.
I worry about them.
I worry about time.
I worry about state.
Hopes are messed with but what I know is,
I hope I don't ruin it all
I hope the damage wasn't of my making.
My past was wonder and color
Now it's longing for the past.
My old thoughts came back as memories
"Do volcanos feel ? If so, what do they feel?"
I now know the suspense.
Longing for my sense.
I think a lot
I think too much
And I think I hope that this
Isn't just a poor excuse of
Emotion turned to thought.
One more thought stopped me;
"Do I have the right to say what I feel ? Maybe saying isn't the same to others so please, others, know that what I say means none but what I make it to mean."•
