Was I blind?
Was I sick?
Was I holding on too tight?
How can I be here?
How did I get here?
How can I not feel the ground?
Are my feet cold?
Are my fears numb?
Are you just that ignorant?
I need some answers
Please give me some answers
How can you not hear my cries?
Are they too low?
Are they too high?
Are you really that ignorant?
Why are you still here?
Are you really still here?
Am I finding my ground in delusions?
YOU ARE READING
Platonic.
PoetryLife, as we know it, is a mess of words and expressions and fantasies. Who are you really behind closed doors? a nobody, a wanna be, a silent killer. Sometimes, our most cherished realities become our greatest hypocrisies. This is not a story of lov...
