In this state of mine I sink as I watch the paper walls of my insides burn. Haven't been here in a long time, not that I recall. I still don't know what I'm doing but I try to go on, from the vast void that surrounds my soul to the last vein of my heart.
Yesterday wasn't my day, today it isn't either, tomorrow it won't be enough.
I keep trying to be aware of what happens in the air that gives me the life I need, even tho it's not the one I wish. Starving, my soul, rests in a kind of peace that no one understands. Not even my fool subconscious, that always pretends to be advanced.
Maybe it is what I deserve. Who knows why, who knows when?
YOU ARE READING
Flowers of my life
PoesíaPoems. Based on women that came (but eventually left, too) into my life to stay forever. Even tho, the roots of these flowers are fed on unrequited love, they are enduring and gorgeously painful.
