blank thoughts. nothing except static. low volume though, something strange. you're in some other dimension that i can't reach except by dying. i can't die. i promised i'd stay alive for as long as i could. i have yet to find a reason to stay other than i shouldn't go. food isn't that good anymore. starvation isn't either. alcohol only works with friends present. i hate staring at my closet when it's open. because if it's open i see a skeleton in there. literally, not metaphorically. well, sometimes it's a skeleton but mostly it's just a decomposing body hanging from it's neck. her neck. why does every thought i have revolve around death? my mind won't keep quiet. it's fine though. it'll be fine. i'll be fine. as always.
YOU ARE READING
Brain
PoetryA glimpse of what happens in my head. It is a bilingual (spanish/english) book; some poems will be in english, others in spanish.
