Control, what can't.
All just variables, in a cosmic erupt.
Make sense, of the senseless exist.
Patterns stalked by one and all.
Alone, and just a one.
Stressing over the next,
The next of the next,
Next to nothing.
There's nothing left,
I'm all that's left.
Never again.
YOU ARE READING
Symptoms
PoetryPoetry. Love. Happiness. Sadness. Depression. Guilt. Regret. Struggle and Confliction. We may all be breathing, we may all have our hearts beating. But these are our vital signs. These are symptoms that prove we're alive.
