Breathe ≫Rants/Life/Advice/Etc.

dear friend, [suckish poem]

i’m writing again –

this is the 234th letter since

you’ve been gone.

i don’t know,

loneliness is like a drug;

once you’ve taken it,

you just cannot get enough.

and sometimes i try to escape it all;

the emptiness that has inhaled my life –

but there is always something

to make me fall.

so separate my heart from

my body,

and tear apart my soul.

i cannot breathe in my skin anymore,

it has become all too much.

 

and the beauty of the earth;

the waves upon the sea –

i have grown into it,

all of its indefinite being.

love does not bend,

and words have yet to sting,

but i am not comfortable in my own

skin.

 

it’s december 4th,

and i’ve done it again, my friend.

you see,

since you have left my side,

i have been searching for

myself for such a long time.

food has lost its taste,

and i don’t see a reason for

understanding life’s awful race.

and since you’ve left,

dearly beloved,

i have lost myself,

and i cannot be found.

oh and dear old friend,

the one who left me behind,

do have faith in me,

because i’ve gotten sick

of this place.

–d.v