[ 12. 4 ]
moments like these,
i want nothing more than
separation from
myself.
the other side of the mirror
holds nothing of appeal to me,
what i see causes me to
turn my face.
everything is displeasing to me,
but in all actuality,
the only displeasure is with myself.
these days, i spend all my time
in solitude
when i'd rather be doing something
that makes me forget
who i even am -
just until this strong wave of
self-loathing
passes, and the seas make for
smooth sailing again.
no matter the amount of running from me
that i do,
sleep won't stop it
music won't put it to rest
and i realize i can't escape myself...
no matter how badly i wish to.
p.s. - i appreciate the stirring-up of emotions i wished were dead. thank You.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
