When you're gone.

11 1 0
                                        

it feels like

a nuclear bomb
approaching my home

               and no matter what I do

i will never be prepared
and the fallout will always be greater

    than me.

it feels like

an air tight jar
but the lid is slowly being screwed off

        so instead of a rush of air leaving

it's a slow

torturing trickle
and I can do nothing against it.

it feels like
a slowly filling room of water

that I know will someday reach the top of the glass

                           and drown me

a part of me is frightened
a part of me wants to let go.

it feels
like  jagged sentences

scattered on the page.

it feels like
an incomplete

Results of a Restless MindWhere stories live. Discover now