I'm losing my soul.
It's becoming devoured by the world,
I'm losing my sense of self and sentience; new, current and old.
All I have left are these four walls and this beating heart;
The drug of escapism is dangerous.
Once you get a taste of adneraline, the comedown is the worst part.
You've lost it when you try and find yourself down in Cinnabar,
Searching hour after hour.
Caring less about the important things,
And more about red balls and golden rings
Becoming lost in yourself, becoming someone else,
Not giving reality a chance because of the cards you've been dealt.
Then it's too late, you know that time and death
Won't wait for any man, as is fate.
YOU ARE READING
Inflorescence
PoetryI don't wanna be a seed In half bloom, I don't wanna live like that; I wanna become a flower, In full bloom, beaming, don't wanna fall flat. A collection of vignettes, poems, short stories, standalones, ideas and idk what else. Updated whenever.
