Life is dictated by cycles:
The seasons change, day turns into night,
Clouds part to reveal the sun
to only be covered by clouds again
Friends come by, friends leave
The same song plays on end
Sadness, indifference, brief joy, depression, repeat
By the thousandth time,
my skin stings with the kind of numbness
that only a slow poison can provide
I taste its foulness on my tongue
and smell its pestilence off my breath
Sleep, shower, school, work, repeat
This song is really getting old
How sweet its melody was at first
But now the notes are sharp knives
cutting away at the folds of my brain
Smile, scream, laugh, cry, repeat
My eyes have sunken deep inside my skull
Who could blame them?
My ears ring like wedding bells
Who could really blame them?
YOU ARE READING
A Meaningless Collection
PoezjaA collection of variously themed poems that I write mostly on my commute to class or when I can't find a reason to fall asleep.
