Longing for an end
Yet communicating alively
All the way down in my mind
But through poetry spoken
Words meaning more than
Just conversations
Could ever comprehend
Spoken untruths about
Written ones
Altering pure thoughts
Into something they
Weren't ever meant to be
To me, nor anyone else
No one but a poet
To understand twisted words
Representing a twisted soul
But the charcoal
That used to be me
Which I used to be
Fears obliviousness
Being spread by the wind
Into nothingness
Clinging onto the surface
Of the earth like
A living thing, it is.
YOU ARE READING
That Deep Shit I Can't Live With(out)
Poetry//06.09.2018// EDIT// The new stuff I posted here is deep and thoughtful philosophical stuff and I believe it to be actually good. So please enjoy and please remember: I don't mind comments, especially not the meaningful and constructive ones.
