As the veracious blood drains from one member of thy body to thy next, and my life force drains. All I feel is a deadening numb sensation, of where my life used to be.
Wish to transfuse this splendid growth from my past to my atrocious future.
Alas what is done is done, the past is not present nor the present the past, for what I can only do now is apply a torn tourniquet to the numb lifeless limb. Hope for the best, for it may be to late. I may have lost too much might to keep my energy going.
For all I feel is a numb tingling sensation all over, there is nothing, yet everything. It hurts, but yet I feel nothing, it is everywhere but nowhere. It never leaves, yet it never came.
Just a translucent feeling that may or may not exist, I feel as I must lob it off but it doesn't exist.
Alas i must find a way to transfuse.
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland poetry
PoetryThis book will be a collection of poetry made by me. A journey through sadness and happiness, and the abstract journey through wonderland.
