It's like I'm creating
the feeling itself.
Does it exist?
I forgot.
Maybe I shouldn't,
remember anyway.
Sometimes it's too much anyway,
or too real
I wish I could.
Though I'll never be done,
or satisfied, I'm never satisfied.
Feelings are more important right?
Just like realizing what's true or not.
Sadly.
I do not care.
But I've known once (not anymore),
someone always does.
I do not believe in caring
It might not be a healthy thing.
I've been waiting too long.
Time that somehow,
always finds its way back,
is now running out.
Nice music or,
kind words from people
calling themselves friends.
Won't help, no.
I've left the idea of help.
Help is more like hope.
Hope won't wake me up tomorrow,
or, the day after that,
and after that.
I'm convinced of dark parts existing,
but still I think I don't, I'm not
here, I am,
not.
There's just no reason to be,
no prove.
I feel sick in my stomach,
thinking about it.
Not too much, but just enough.
Don't we all?
I guess,
I guess we do.
I guess,
I guess I'll be fine, right?
I'm inside the feeling itself,
I do not care what's true or not,
I left the idea of help,
I'm convinced of dark parts existing but still think I'm not,
I feel sick in my stomach thinking just enough.
But I guess,
I guess I'll be fine.
Somehow.
.
Something went wrong but here it is! Took a lot of editing but I'm happy with the result, I hope you're too.
YOU ARE READING
Pencil Twist
PuisiPoetry about lives and living, your life and mine. The good things and the bad, things you remember and things you forgot. things from the past and things from the future. I hope you'll enjoy! Feedback, suggestions and all that stuff are always wel...
